The story below is a work of fiction, set in the format of reality. Any resemblances to real people, alive or in the hereafter, is entirely coincidental in nature. It is not meant to accurately reflect upon persons, in towns, cities, nor governmental areas, which the story is stages. If a sexual scene involving male-to-male relationships offences you, then you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age, in most state and countries, you are not allowed to read this story, by law. Check with your local laws regarding such. Sexual safety matters. This is fiction. Use protection, in real life.
"ROAD TRIP: Hungry Wolf" wriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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"So, you ever going to tell me the reason `why' you had to up and leave?"
"Isn't knowing I care for you, enough, Anthony?"
That would have sufficed. After all, I did feel the emotion for myself, while `hanging on in the backyard' at Miguel's service station. But I sensed Roberto held back.
"That would do, only I sense there is more to this than you packing up, giving up the comfortable life with Miguel."
"Pull over a second, will you Anthony?"
"Sure. Gotta take a leak?"
Out in the middle of `no mans land', the route Roberto guided me on, not a sole had passed us in the last half hour. As I pulled to the side, near a field of cows, he didn't go for the door latch. Instead, Roberto unbuckled his seat belt, like a pancake on the griddle, turned himself over, landing on top of me, his lips going for mine.
"Mmmmmmmm," I remarked, my arms going around him, as well.
Turning back over, fighting my arms, to break loose, he deposited himself back into his bucket seat.
"Any more questions?" he asked.
"Not right now. Maybe later."
"Good. You go down to MIller's Lane, that's at the end of this cow field and make a left." Then, as Roberto fastened his seatbelt, he said, "When you see Hungry Wolf Cafe, then wake me up."
Okay, for now he was safe. My agenda of questions still wasn't finished. Following Roberto's directions, several miles down the road I found Miller's Lane and made my left turn.
Geesh! That was a lot of cows!' I said to myself out loud. It occured to me that I could have wakened Roberto. Before I made my turn, I sat there, looking at him sleeping. Yeah, you know,' I observed, `I think I do care for you!'
Driving on, about a half foot, I put on the break, turned to him, still asleep and remarked, `No, I more than like you.' I dared to shift into park, unbuckle, lean over, kiss Roberto on the cheek, which was a hassle since the steering wheel gnawed at my torso, sat back once again, fastened my seatbelt, shifted into drive and headed out.
Not another couple of feet of travel and I heard him say, "Felt nice. Thanks."
"Faker!" I called out.
He just giggled. I smiled. This time, Roberto let the seat fall back, into the reclining position. I wondered if he expected something more than a peck on the cheek. Then again, like a light bulb turning on, I remembered the original reason I had set out on this road trip, what was it, sixteen hours ago?
The time flew, as well as myself. Every little cafe I passed, whether attached to some other establishment, didn't match Roberto's calling, Hungry Wolf's'. Something did' catch my eye, on the opposite side of the road, a young blond, his thumb out. I joked to myself, giggling out loud, `too bad he's not going my way'. In the giddiness of my humor, I almost passed it. Jamming on the brakes, startled Roberto into the present.
"Snake? Deer?" he called out.
Abruptly doing a situp, the back of the seat forced him upright.
"No. Wolf," I replied.
Placing my right hand to the back of Roberto's seat, looking through the back window, my left hand guided the car, via the steering wheel, backing up to the entrance of the Hungry Wolf Cafe.
"I don't understand how you could have missed it," Roberto grilled me, as we walked to the entrance.
I didn't let on that I had a distraction, a few feet back!
As we entered, Roberto greeted the host, whom I also learned, the owner's son. Not until twelve hours ago, did I have an inclination of why the male physique turned me on so.
"He's too young for us."
"And what's that supposed to mean?"
"Just that. I'm twenty-nine." It then occured to Roberto that he knew nothing about me. "Hey, how old are you?"
"Twenty-eight." I then returned with, "I thought you are older."
"Older? What makes you say that?"
"I'm not sure exactly. When I was," I cleared my throat, looking about, not wanting another soul to hear me talking about my unpleasant experiences, "strung up like a prisoner of war and you came over to me, well you seemed older."
"By the way, while we're on the subject, did you really like my hug or was all a put up?"
I sat back smiling.
"Well? Was it?"
"It started out that way. Yeah, I admit it. After Miguel took me for a spin on the hook of his tow truck, then hearing about his plans for his party animal friends, with me as the source of entertainment, I did get a little desperate."
"So you lied?"
"Um," I looked around, trying to evade his eyes, "yeah, I did, but..."
Roberto stopped sucking his water up the straw.
"So you didn't feel anything when I threw my chest against yours?"
As if at a wrestling match, I held my right hand up straight, left hand flat over the top.
"Wait! Time out here for a minute, okay?"
He sat back, folding his arms over his pecs.
"I'm waiting."
Continuing with my explanation, I knew I had to make it good, but also the truth. Researching my feelings for that exact moment, several hours ago, I prepared my defense.
"Okay. This is the honest truth. I think you can probably understand, when a guy has gone through what I had just gone through, getting a flat, then getting duped by the tow truck driver, your friend Miguel..."
"My brother."
"Your brother? So now you're finally telling me?"
"Yeah, but go ahead. I want to hear you out."
As much as I wanted to hear about Roberto's relationship to Miguel, I wanted to clear things up.
"As I was telling you, in my mind, all I could think about is how Miguel stripped me, hung me up like a slab of beef, worked my gut over, then proceeded to twirl my body all over creation, before finally reducing me to a `rubber band' between two trees, talking me up, as much as saying I was his dungeon entertainment for the evening."
"You were."
He's right. I was.
"But, to answer your question of do I care for you..."
Same thing happened, as when my bare bod hung, stretched, wrist to wrist, between the two trees, out behind the service station. I stopped when I gazed into those two eyes, pools of deep blue. Unlike this afternoon though, my cock was twitching like crazy.
"Well?"
I finally reckoned, leaning into the center of the table, sorta whispering, "If I don't get you to a motel room soon, I think I'm gonna wet my pants!"
With a wry smile, Roberto says, "Oh, so you `do' care for me?"
"Okay, so I think I love you, dammit. Is that what you're trying to torture out of me?"
His smile turned to a toothy grin, as he giggled.
"And you?" I put to him.
"Why do you think I cashed in my chips for you?"
"Huh?" I replied, my eyes squinted like the sun shone directly into them.
"Miguel owed me big time. I saved his skin, so I was waiting for the right time to make good on it."
"Me?"
"Sure. A lot of guys have come and gone, but..."
It was Roberto's turn to become sentimental. I waited. At the same time, his two hands reached across the table, latched onto mine.
Sincerely, he said, "When I held you, hugged you, I felt this sensation shoot right through me. Anthony, when I held you, I knew you were the one. I'm just sorry you had to go through Juan torturing your gut, before I could convince Miguel that I was being serious."
"Being serious?"
"Yeah. You see, Miguel really likes you too."
"Funny way of showing it."
"No, I didn't mean `like' like you. He liked it that you could take the abuse."
"He did, did he? Want to explain yourself?"
"Like I said. Guys have come and go, but none of them could take the beating that you took. You don't know what Miguel told Juan when he arrived."
"And that was?"
"Miguel was all excited. Kind of proud of you, in a way."
"Proud?"
"Sure. You should have seen the excitement, when Juan and the others came in. Miguel rushed over to him, like he got a new tow truck or something. He told them he `got a guy that can really take it' and..."
Roberto's head hung low.
"What?"
He smiled, then said, "Would you believe that Miguel bet on you?"
"Bet on me?" I asked, breaking one of Roberto's hand holds, my hand going to my chest.
"Yeah. Isn't that sweet?"
"Sweet? The guy stretched my balls out with a mallet, then let's his friend pound my abs and you call that sweet?"
"He could have also refused me my request, but didn't."
"Then why didn't he?"
"Well, more than that he owed me, he loves me too. I'm his brother. Well, half-brother."
"Yeah and that's another thing I want to hear about, but let's get this over and done with."
"Okay, the truth is, you haven't seen the last of Miguel."
"What?!"
I think everybody in the cafe heard me this time.
"Calm down."
"Oh, I get it. He wanted you to come along with me, to keep tabs on me, that it? You're the contact person, eh Roberto?"
"That's a crock of bullshit, Anthony!"
The young host stepped up to our table, asking, "Can I take your order?"
"Not yet," Roberto imformed him, then turning to me, said, "Come on."
I excused myself, following Roberto, who led the way out of the Hungry Wolf.
"Where are we going?"
"To prove to you I love you. That's where!"
"You love me?"
As I drove, Roberto pointed out the direction. A coupla hundred feet up the road, he reached over in front of me, putting on the right directional signal. I turned at the intersection. Suddenly, it looked like we were back in civilization.
"Over there. Make a left."
I turned into the Hojo's.
"Wait here," Roberto ordered, as he went into the office.
Upon returning, he held a key with a triangular, turquoise piece of plastic hanging from it.
"Around the back."
I said nothing, only put the car in gear and followed.
Leading the way, I said, "We don't have to do this. I believe you."
"Oh, I have to do this alright," he responded.
We walked up an outer stairway, to the second floor.
"You seem to know exactly where you're going."
"It's not like I've never been here before."
"That's what I figured."
"Hey, in a small town, a guy's gotta learn how to use his resources to make money."
I know my eyebrows perked up. I could feel it. I also grew very curious.
After entering the room, closing the door behind me, Roberto says, "Get your clothes off."
He already had his tee shirt stripped over his head, by the time I thought about taking mine off. However, my dick played a part in the wanting. I did what I was told. Matter of factly, Roberto didn't have to give me any more cues. Following what he did, soon I was in the buff, as he pulled down the covers of the bed. I wondered how this would go. Neither of us said anything about the terms top', nor bottom'. Since he was dishing out the orders, I figured I'd be doing all the sucking. I've heard how these gay-sex things worked.
"C'mon. Get in."
Looks like I figured right. There Roberto lay, and my, what a sight! Maybe an inch shorter than me, thinner, lanky, but what a beautiful body. Dark brown hair mid chest, swirls around his nips, a thin line to his deep navel, then slightly swirling around it, coming to a defined stripe, before proceeding to his carpet of pubic hair. I knew I had it over him, in the cock and balls department, knowing I had a longer cock and bigger balls. Though, it did dawn on me that my balls could be longer, from Miguel's ball torture, the mallet hanging from them.
"C'mon, Anthony. What are you afraid of?"
"Um, nothing, only." I grinned. "I've never been in bed with a man before."
"Get outta here." He paused, as I nodded `yes'. "Then you told the truth."
I knelt on one knee.
"Sort of."
I rolled my eyes. Slightly turning, he held out his hand. I took it.
"Hey. You are nervous, aren't you?"
"A little bit," I fibbed.
I was `a lot' nervous.
"Well there's nothing to be nervous about. Being with another man is not much different than... well, I can't tell you about that, since I've never been with a woman."
"Me neither," I confessed.
By this time, I was flat on my back, my nakedness in full view of Roberto, who sat up on his knees.
"What? You haven't had any sex for twenty-eight years?"
"Um, does giving my mom a kiss before bedtime count?"
"No," he bluntly retorted.
"Well, a guy doesn't have sex til he's of legal age anyway," I made excuse, "so it's not like it's my whole life."
"I had sex when I was sixteen."
"You did? Sixteen? But legal age is eighteen."
"Are you playing stoopid with me, Anthony?"
When he said it, he placed both hands on my knees. I looked at his hands, making it obvious.
"What? It's only my hands on your knees."
"Yeah, but when I said another man never touched me, I mean... except for when you hugged me this afternoon. Well..."
I shut up when Roberto pushed my knees apart. I watched his head, as his hands slid down my hairy thighs.
"Looks good," he commented. "I definitely think you feel something for me, Anthony."
"What?"
He nodded, with attention drawn to my pubes.
"You're as hard as a rock."
He didn't have to tell me that, but when Roberto folded his hand around my 9.5c, I then knew something!
"Ooooooooooooooh!"
"And that's only my `hand'!"
Roberto didn't pause to explain anything more. Holding on to my hard shaft, he lowered his head, his mouth wide open.
"Oh shit! You're not gonna...."
My reaction, as his warm mouth engulfed my shaft, was to curse over and over again, my back arching, my head getting pushed into the pillow.
"Oh shit... oooooh shit...oooooooooh shit!"
Next thing I know, Roberto's body is flatlined on the bed, his arms caressing my thighs, his mouth working my cock. Really the actual experience I'm having, a real live blow job, I press up onto my elbows and watch.
"I... I can't believe it! My first blow job!"
Roberto pops off, his mouth drooling with saliva, asks, "Like it?"
"I... I love it... feels so, so good."
"Then just lay back and enjoy it, okay?"
"No problem," I reply, doing what he tells me.
I memorized every little detail of my first blow job. Roberto's tongue massaged my cock, inside and outside of his mouth. I couldn't tell myself, which felt best. When his whole mouth wasn't taking in my cock, sometimes he would digress from the cock sucking and licking and take on my balls.
"Wow, these are big!" he said, before taking one entire ball into his mouth.
I moaned in ecstasy. I thought my cock was the only sensitive part of my crotch, but as Roberto's hot saliva bathed my hairy orb, he swirled his tongue around it.
"That feels so... so... so fuckin' good!"
When he popped it out of his mouth, it actually made a popping sound, like a cork out of a bottle.
"Glad you like it."
While the wet ball dried, he greased up the other orb with his saliva.
"Oh man, Roberto. You're gonna make me cum for sure!"
"Cum? Oh no you don't. Not yet!"
What did I put into this boy's head?
"Come on. Get up."
"What?"
"Just do what I tell you."
I did what Roberto told me, assuming his position of getting on my knees. I had a feeling, where he was going with this, but wasn't positive. He hit the bed, lying on his back, pulling up his thighs.
"Well, you going to do it or not, Anthony?"
"Do what?"
I wasn't absolutely, positively sure, but I wanted make sure he wanted it.
"Man, you really `are' stoopid about gay-sex, aren't you?"
I was getting tired of being called `stoopid'.
"I know more than you think, boy!"
Even though Roberto is a year older than me, I belittled him, not that I truly meant it.
"I like it when you call me your `boy'."
Looks like `he' meant it! Why not? At the same time I'll make sure that we are both on the same page here.
"Well boy," I played up the namecalling, "you get those thighs higher," at the same time I moved in closer, walking on my knees, "my cock's coming to take yo'ass!"
There. I had delivered the clincher, being dramatic. He hiked up his thighs. Staring straight at me, was his Latino puckerhole, hiding behind a thin mat of hair.
"I think you need it lubed up some more."
"Is kind of dry," I replied, holding it in my hand.
I could now feel the effects of having it wet down by Roberto's hot, wet mouth. It didn't feel like water from the shower. It had a certain `raw' feeling to it, but one thing, it was still as hard as when he last had his tongue on it. In fact, when I firmed it up, in my hand, a bead of cum appeared at the opening.
"I need all the protein I can get, Anthony."
Roberto's hint didn't go unheeded. He relaxed his legs, letting them fall to the bed. At the same time, his cock stood straight up in the air. I had mixed emotions here. I wanted to fuck him, but then again I had the desire to see what it would feel like having his shaft touch my lips.
"Come on," He reverted to the dominant mode, "sit up here, right on my chest and feed me your cock seed."
`My cock-seed', I thought. Inside I was giggling at the thought of the term.
However, he was once again running the show, so I sat on his stomach, then hefted up to his chest so that his mouth could taste me. Roberto helped, his hands on the sides of my bod, motioning for me to lean forwards. I sat up once, with a `wow' look on my face, feeling the reaction, as my hard shaft traveled beyond the boundaries of his mouth, seemingly going down Roberto's throat.
"Ooooooooooooh," Roberto sighed.
Not realizing it, when I drew back, my cock backed out of his throat, out his mouth. I got a surprise, his hands clawing at my asscheeks, reeling me back in. So, I gave in, forcing my cock once again down his throat. In my mind, I pictured the size of his throat, with the ability to fit my fat, rounded shaft into it. Still not believing he could swallow it, I moved one of my hands to his esophagus, to see if it was true.
Wow!' I said to myself, as my hand detected my own cock being fed down his gullet. How is this possible?'
However, the degrees of pleasure I received, made me forget about it being there, in that sense. I slowly found out that more pleasure could be derived by pulling my hard shaft out a little, then pressing it back in.
"Ooooooooh... oooooh man that feels soooo soooo awesome!"
This went on for what I estimate as about ten minutes. I actually provoked the halt of Roberto's swallowing act.
"Oooooooh this is sooo sooo good.. I wonder if your ass will feel as good?"
I said it without really thinking about it. But I suppose Roberto intently thought on it. Right away, he pushes on my chest, both hands over my pecs. My cock exits his throat like vomit.
"Are you ready to cum?"
"I thought I was ready to come a half hour ago!"
"It hasn't been that long," Roberto informs me. "But if you're going to come, I want you in my ass."
As I was backing down his body, his hard cock scraped along me, leaving a trail of precum striped up my stomach.
"Um, do I get your's up my ass, too?"
"Don't touch it," He scolded, "I'm about to cum myself."
"That's good," I said.
Well, I was really lubed up now and raring to go. However, I wasn't so sure about all this `fucking stuff'. I did what I thought was right, scooted up to his entry hole, placed the tip of my cock up to his hairy hole. Kind of tickled the end, but more in a sensitive way.
Out loud, I thought, "I guess I just push it in?"
However, when I went to do it, it wouldn't budge!
"It's stuck."
Not for long though. Almost losing my balance, Roberto couples his slender legs around my torso, connecting his ankles behind my back. At the same time, he pushes the palms of his hands against the head board. The counter action, causes our bodies to link up.
"Arrrrrrrrrrrrrghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" He calls out, as my cock head is forced inside him.
I can't believe Roberto is doing this to himself. Me? I'm having no choice in the matter. After my cock head slips in, going a half inch beyond, there's nothing I want more.
"Ooooooooooooh maaaaaaaaaaaan does this feel sooooooo fucking good!"
I din't need the coaxing after that. Like he had done with his feet, I did with my hands, first on his torso, then the sides of his body, then his shoulders, pulling myself deeper inside his ass canal.
He had to warn me though, "Your balls are hitting my ass. You can't go no more, Anthony."
"I knew that!" I replied, not wanting to feel too stoopid.
As I did with his throat, forcing my cock down his gullet, then out, then in, I utilized the same action.
"Ooooooooh this is soooo different than your throat!"
Roberto didn't reply, other than groan from my fucking action.
Okay, a couple of times he did utter the words, "I'm yours now, Anthony."
I figured it spelled a committment, but my brain was more on how hot and comfy his ass chamber felt on my hard shaft, as it grazed his insides.
"Ooooh, I need to cum," Roberto finally said.
"You ain't the only one!"
But, instead of taking his cock into his own hand, he took my hand, placing it on his own cock. I took the hint. However, sweating like a pig, I sped up the in and out motion, wanting to gain a deeper impact. Like he said, I couldn't go any further, as my big balls slapped against his ass. I didn't even think about bruising them. They could have been getting that way, my balls, what with the force of my beating my cock away inside of him. We both sweated, moaned, as the sweat flew all over the place. I didn't take notice that I let go of his cock, grasping his thighs for leverage. Neither of us beat his cock off, but he came. His white jizz spurted out, hitting `me' in the chin. As he came so did I blast off, cumming deep inside of Roberto's ass canal. I thought it would not end, each time shoving myself inside, with each ejaculation. Later I would quiz Roberto on how it felt when my wrestler body collapsed on his stringbean body. My sweat-soaked chest and stomach striking his cum-saturated chest and stomach, our spent pubes intermingling.
"Oh man, that was worth the wait!"
As I lay there, recuperating from my aerobic workout, it occured to me, the fact he mentioned.
"You... you've never been fucked?"
"No."
"But you said there...have been... other times?"
"Oral sex. Nothing more...except... well maybe once."
I looked up at his sweat drenched head, his hair totally wet, as if showered.
"I wasn't fucked," he claimed, "but I.... fucked a guy."
"I guess there's a difference."
Roberto then went on to say, "Well yeah. You see, I was saving my ass... for..." then, with a proud frame of mind, he admits, "I was saving my ass to be claimed by the guy I wanted to be with for all time."
"Me?"
"Yeah, dummy. That's why I dragged you out of the Hungry Wolf. Get it?"
After all that, I finally got it. Like he showed me, I had to show him. Sliding my body up, using the sweat, cum and whatever other juices paved our bodies, I gravitated to where our lips met.
As a postlude to our lip-lock, I admitted, "I love you."
I don't know how long we lay there. Slowly, the room became darkened. I remembered having to piss, so dragged my sticky body out of the bed and headed for the jon. The light, switched on, must have jogged my senses. As the piss streamed out of my cock, into the toilet, I smiled, drawing the allusion to my cum shooting into Roberto's body. I can't deny I was elated with excitement, both from the physical, yet the verbal, telling him I was in love with him. I squeezed the last bits of yellow out and flushed.
"My turn."
"I didn't see you standing there."
"Oh, but I saw you standing there. What were you thinking?"
"What was I thinking?"
Weasling my way in between the doorframe, I took his lithe body in my arms, making the gooey build up a part of us. My lips tangled with his.
"I never dreamed that I would eventually be a part of a gay man."
Roberto looked at me kind of strangely.
"Why the look?"
"Nothing. I guess it's because you've never had sex with a guy before."
I can't say I wasn't curious, but how to go about asking, that's the tricky part.
"Um, exactly how much money did you... um, accumulate?"
I thought he would come back at me, swinging, but instead he smiled, giggled.
"Enough to buy my laptop, the books, the designer clothing and more!"
I shrugged my shoulders. I had no idea how many men could be bartered for all those goods.
"Look, if it's AIDS you're worried about?"
"No."
"I've been checked. Several times, plus I've always been careful.. Well, that one time I had to be."
"The time you fucked the guy?"
"Yeah, but... I..."
"What?" I questioned him.
"You see. When I fucked him... I wasn't wearing a condom because I was sixteen."
"Oh."
"I probably should have, but... neither of us knew what the heck it meant."
I smiled, but still had some questions.
"Was he sixteen too?"
"Worse," Roberto informed me, "fifteen."
I chuckled. It seemed funny, but I knew the implications weren't.
"But like you said, you've been tested, right?"
"Yes and it's negative. What about you?"
"Like I said. You're my first, Roberto."
"Wow!" He responded, all aglow. As if spelling out a marquee at the movies, Roberto says, "Virgin ass meets virgin cock!"
Now `that' was something to laugh about. Both of us.
"Shower?"
"Yeah, I need it, thanks. Oh, by the way..."
"What's that?" I asked.
"Now I know why your balls are so big."
"Why?"
"All that cum leaked outta my ass onto the sheets!"
I laughed, saying, "You naive boy."
"What?" he asked, dumbfounded, his hands on his small, golden torso.
"It's not like I didn't have a sexual wanting. Um, I did relieve the urge, you know?"
Roberto hit himself in the head, replying, "How could I be so stoopid!"
"C'mon dummy," I held the stall open, "shower time."
However, just as he was about to step into the shower, a loud knock came at the door.
"Hold on a second."
I followed him out into the room.
"Um, don't you think we should cover up?"
I followed Roberto's lead, grabbing my sweatpants and just holding them up to my pubes, shielding them from eyesight. He swing open the door.
"We were told you we could find you here!"
"What do you want?"
The two gruffy men, looking along the lines of truckdrivers, pushed past Roberto.
"You'll have to get out. I don't do that anymore."
Then one of them spotted me.
"Well lookee here. Two for the price of one."
I spoke up, saying, "He told you, he's not into it anymore," whatever it was they came for.
One of them, taller than me, about maybe 6'2, stood in front of me. From his throat, he pulled up a was of cud and spat it out, right onto my chest!
"What tha...."
"Looks like you need to learn some manners, boy!" He said to me.
With that, his big hand caught me on the side of the face, sending me reeling to the east side of the room.
"Heeeeeey you fuckin'!" Roberto tried protesting.
The other gruff, grabbed him by the arm, swung him around and plowed his fist into Roberto's gut.
"Oh man that felt good!" he replied to the gut punch.
"Hey, he's mine Alphonso. Here, you take this muscle stud. He's more your type!"
"Hell yeah!" I heard the one called `Alphonso' say, as he approached me.
Stunned, I held onto the side chair, hefting myself up. Before I could sense this other gruff coming near me, he had me up to my feet, his arms woven in and under my arms, his hands at the back of my neck, my body placed in a `full nelson'. Stretched out, Alphonso kept me at bay, with no recourse to fight him off. He was taller and wider than myself. My attention wasn't only on myself, nor him. I was aghast to see the other holding Roberto, his arms in bondage, behind his back.
"Take him in the other room and play with him, Alphonso. I need my privacy with this one!"
"What are you going to do with him?" Roberto asked, about me.
He answered, "Break a few ribs. Don't you worry. Alphonso will give him a good time!"
After laughing his ass off, I was hauled away, into the jon. I fought like hell, for release, but to no avail. As he waltzed me away, I called out Roberto's name.
"Don't you worry none about your boyfriend," Alphonso cautioned me, "Mike's gonna work his ass over real good!"
Again, stunned, not by physical action, but by his words, I wasn't thinking of myself.
"Arrrrrrrrrrrrgh!" I screamed out.
Entering the nice sized jon, I felt a punching blow to my back, forcing me up against the wall. I felt blood. My nose was bleeding. Without warning, he pulled on my arm, turning my body around. Next, his heavy fist hit me square in the stomach.
"Uuuuuuuuuggggghhhhh!"
It damn knocked the wind out of me, sending me to my knees. My body bowed, as if in prayer, worshipping the tiled floor. I then felt something pressing against the back of my neck. It was his knee. He leaned heavy on me. At the same time, I sensed him moving about, then the sound of metal. I learned what that sound was. Without provocation, his belt struck my ass.
"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" I screamed.
I haven't felt a belt on ass since college hazing. It stung like hell. This was no frat party. He was hurling his belt against my ass, to do damage. Worse, was the second fling. However, it also acted as a catalyst, along with Roberto's screams from the other room. I shot forward, loosening the grip of his knee on the back of my neck.
"Fucking bastard," is what I heard just before the belt came down again.
"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" I screamed out again, intermingling with the commotion from the bedroom.
His belt caught me right up the length of my back. Still, my own pain meant nothing, compared to hearing Roberto's cries for help. I managed to huddle up, as in a ball. The belt struck again, across my back, then my arm, as I tried wrestling it away from Alphonso. I lost my balance, falling against the toilet. It really stunned me this time, striking me across my chest, as I couldn't help arching my back.
"Akkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk! Oooooooh shit!"
I grabbed for the only weapon in sight, the plunger. When he came at me this time, I jabbed the handle right into his abs. It was his time to cave in. However, it seemed to stun him only a little. Still it gave me enough time do something. Anything. Good thing housekeeping didn't do their job. I picked up the can of shaving cream and pointed it at his face. Nothing came out.
"Shit!"
Shit is right, as Alphonso came at me, slightly phased by the hit to his stomach. His belt swinging, again I tried shielding myself. My back really took a beating. Soon I lay flat out, on the tiled floor. The belt was taking it's toll on my ass and back. Along with every welt, Alphonso let out a grunt, telling me he was exacting his revenge. It's then I remembered one of the `unorthodox moves' Brad Barkley used at one of the wrestling competitions. It got him disqualified, but if it saved my life I'd be thanking Brad. It also took the strength of a team of horses, something that was slowly being sapped out of my lifeless body, but I gained the momentum, what with the knowledge of Roberto's body laying on the bed, in the other room, with that scumbag. Still taking the reign of lashes, by now knowing it wasn't only my nosebleed that contributed to the red on the floor, I got to my knees. From there, I prayed, already blessing Brad Barkley and pressed my hands to the floor. Without further thought, I quickly pressed hard, kicking out my legs. I know I felt my bare feet hit his chest. I don't think that's what did the trick, but hearing the shower stall break, shatter, I knew I had done some type of damage. Not waiting around, I headed into the bedroom. It was kind of dark. I wondered if I was in time. It was quiet-like. Somebody was sitting up, while the other lying down. The one with his head on the pillow, sobbed. With the plunger in my hand, I held it like a baseball bat, aiming for whatever it would connect with, that rose above the bed. Home run!
"Arghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" I heard ring out through the room, followed by, "What tha fuck?"
I didn't know which wall had the light switch affixed to it.
"Son of a bitch!" Was the next line of fire I heard, as if a person stood upright.
I didn't speak, just froze, still holding the plunger.
"You're dead meat, boy!"
Apparently he was on his feet. I made for the other direction, `down'. I heard him searching the room, his hand patting against the wall. I had to do something before his hand hit the light switch.
"Oh shit!" I gasped.
My shoulder rubbed against the side of his leg. In the dark we struggled, him reaching down, grabbing me under my arm. I wasn't any light weight that could be tossed around so easy, weighing in at two hundred and five pounds, on my six foot skeleton, but he had some grip, too. Plus, his kick forwards, right into my crotch, didn't help either.
"Akkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkshit!"
"Heee heee heee... I got ya now, boy!"
With the handle of the plunger under my chin, both hands fighting to keep him from choking the living daylights out of me, he still searched the wall. The lamps surrounding the sides of the bed, switched on. More to my horror, than life being drained out of me, was the scene of seeing Roberto, rolled up into a ball, sobbing.
"You dirty, fucking bastard!" I called out.
Jumping on his foot was all I could rationally think of doing. He felt it a little, as I danced on his bare foot. However, it wasn't anything on the offensive that could cause damage enough to loosen his grip. If not enough to ad to my worries, out of the jon, comes Alphonso.
"Where the fuck is that bastard?"
"Got `em right here for ya, Al."
I was done for! Pulling the plunger away, he planted his fist in my gut. I fell to the floor.
"Get'em up. I ain't done with him yet!"
Behind me, my body was lifted, his arms clenching me with my arms behind my back. I hadn't much strength left in me.
"Hold him tight."
I literally saw Alphonso stretch his elbow way back, but felt the blow to my stomach before seeing it. I know the scumbag behind me lost his grip, but then regained control, grasping both of my arms, placing his knee behind my back.
"Hold him real tight. Gonna finish this bastard off!"
This was it. I was dead meat alright. But, instead of a gut punch, Alphonso put both hands on my shoulders and lifted his knee. It caught me right in the crotch. I slumped in my human bondage, slipping out my captor's grips.
"He's still breathing, Al."
"Yeah. Good. I'll get my belt and finish him off."
"While you're doing that, I'll finishing unloading, up my trick's ass!"
I tried getting up. Before my captor climbed on the bed, I received a kick to the ribs. Good thing it was a bare foot. But it didn't do any good to my body, already racked with pain. I lay there, faced down on the floor.
I tried getting up, hearing Roberto shout, "You stay away from me!"
Making it to my knees proved fruitless, as Alphonso's belt caught me across the shoulder blades. Hope was slowly fading for the two of us. I felt so much for Roberto, but could not get to him. The mental breakdown was worse than the physical pain.
"What the fuck?"
I must have been delirious. I wouldn't find out til later, that I was right in my assumption. That' actually was' Miguel's voice I heard.
%
My eye sight proved blurry, as I opened my lids.
"Where am I?"
I surely was not in that motel room.
More than myself, I called out, "Roberto?"
I tried doing a roll up, the kind I do in my Pilates exercise set, but at the same time the dull ache in my stomach, plus a hand to my shoulder, made me falter. The hand on my shoulder, plus one to my sore back, cushioned by fall.
"You just take it easy there, amigo."
The first face back to the real world, was the same one that hauled my ass up to the tow truck hook.
"Miguel?"
"You take good beating... Well not good, but you need rest."
"Where... Roberto?"
"Roberto... um he okay. You trust me."
In the state I was in, I didn't have much choice, yet, the words of how Miguel felt about me, via Roberto's statements, proved that I could sense trust.
"Where... where is... Roberto?"
They must've given me something, to dope me up. As quickly as I came back to reality, I was sent off to dreamland. The next time I viewed the white ceiling of the hospital room, I had more company.
"Hey, how you doing there, Toricelli?"
"Coach Martucci?"
"Yeah. We all heard what happened to you and flew out here. Well, not flew," his hand mimiced an airplane, "but commandeered a bus... the whole team's out in the waiting room."
I know I should have been grateful, but only one face was on my mind.
"Where's Roberto?"
"Roberto?" Coach Martucci questioned. "Who's Roberto?"
I started to get up, but the damned IV pained me. Still, I was adamant.
"Whooooa amigo. You no go anywhere."
Martucci says, "He keeps mentioning this Roberto."
Finally, I got an answer.
"Roberto. A mi casa. Fine. You no worry."
"I want to see him."
As if a ping pong match, Coach Martucci's head is swishing back and forth.
Then, as if the big boss, Miguel says to Martucci, "You go get boys and bring them back."
"They wouldn't let more than two in at a time."
"You tell them Miguel say so."
"Okay, but they're not going to allow it."
While Martucci went to fetch the wrestling team, I chatted with Miguel.
"Is it true you saved us?"
"I get call. I tell Roberto before...'you no go to motel'... not safe...I go to look for him.. Look, I not gonna lie to you amigo. Roberto. His mind is screwed up."
"I need to see him."
This time, the IV needle didn't affect me. I groaned, as I sat up to the edge of the bed.
Miguel commented, "Good."
His comment kind of disturbed me. I know I should be grateful that he came to rescue us, but at the same time, I got irked by his comment.
"Oh, so I'm all better. You can make good on your bet to have me worked over again."
"What you mean amigo?"
"Roberto told me how you `betted' on how much I could take."
"But that before..."
"Don't give me any fuckin' excuses either, Miguel."
By his actions, I felt like a real heel. Lower than a worm crawling on the ground. Stepping forward, he puts his arms around me, his lips close to my ear.
"That all behind us now. We family now."
I was blown away by what he said. I couldn't believe that the guy who hauled my ass all over the county by the tow truck meat hook, now embraced me as family!
"Um, How your stomach, feel Anthony?"
Letting the comment slide, I took it at more of a humorous tone, even though I didn't feel like laughing. At the same time, the wrestling team piled in the door.
"Coach Toricelli, how ya doing man?"
First up, was Brad Barkley. He reached out to shake my hand, but I reeled him, hugging him.
"What's this Coach? You miss us `that' much?"
Overriding Iacovanni's joke, I heralded Brad, "That kick out move came in handy."
"Kick out move? The one I was disqualified for?"
"Same. As I was getting worked over, I tried it."
"How'd it work out for you?"
"It bought me some time."
Then, Sean Berg asks, "We heard they worked you over pretty good."
I sort of made a joke out of it. The guys tried to cheer me up. Even though the most important thing on my mind now, is Roberto. I feigned happiness.
"Neither pretty, nor good."
Brad had crossed over, to the other side of the bed, to let the other guys closer.
He comments, "Those welts look nasty Coach. It hurt?"
"Which one?"
It made the guys giggle and that's all I cared about. Taking their minds off of me so that could leave, saying I was in good spirits is all I wanted to accomplish.
"Um, Coach?"
"Yeah, Jason?"
"I know it's none of our business, but before it becomes a rumor.. um..."
They looked at each other. Tom Carrington irked Jason on.
"Um, is it true you got beat up.. I mean... well, did you take a beating protecting your gay lover?"
My head sunk to my chest. However, I began to see Miguel in a new light. He stood up and confronted the lot of them.
"Why? You got a problem with that?"
Looking up, I think Jason kind of got nervous.
"Who me? Um, no. It's not like any of us are perfect. Right, Michael?"
The room shifted attention to Michael Tucker. At first he looked down, fidgiting with his red baseball cap, then looked up.
Smiling, he replied, "Um, takes one to know one!"
He broke out in a grin.
I was as surprised as the rest of the guys. But that wasn't the end of it.
"You're not the only one, Mikey!"
Nobody could be as shocked as the next guy, as Aldo Iacovanni walks over to Michael, places his lips up to his and kisses him a long one.
"Oh shit!" Nineteen year old Tom Carrington states.
"You got a problem with that boy?" Miguel interrogates him.
"No. No problem with me."
I smiled, knowing how intimidating Miguel can be, when he wants to. Strangely though, I felt drawn to Miguel. His family notion started to wear down my real impression of him. As time ticked away, the team began to leave. One mental note I made, is Aldo and Michael walking out, `buddies'. I thought they made a nice couple. Although, on a sadder note, Coach Martucci didn't seem at all enthused.
"Nice group of boys. Look like they could be fun."
"Forget it, Miguel."
"Though," he changed his mind, "too young."
"And what else are you thinking, Miguel?"
"That coach."
"Martucci?"
"Yeah. He doesn't swing with the rest of them."
"I thought you picked up on that," I frankly gave my opinion, then alluded to, "I think he may be homophobic."
"What that mean?"
"Against gays, he doesn't care for seeing two guys together in the same company. Um, did you see the way he looked at Aldo and Michael, when they kissed?"
"He be big trouble to those boys."
"Could be."
"Maybe I do something about it."
"Now now, Miguel. No rough stuff. I appreciate the thought, but Coach Martucci is pushing retirement age and shouldn't be around too much longer. We can deal with that."
"Those boys are young though. They be around long time."
"They're eighteen. Freshman, but like everything else, we can't run away from our problems. We've got to face them headon and deal with them."
"True. You smart man, Anthony. I see you good for my Roberto."
"Miguel, I've gotta see him."
Before I knew it, we headed up the road towards Miguel's home, passing the long, fenced in pasture of cows.
"I forget to tell you."
"What's that, Miguel?"
"I no call the cops."
"Cops?"
"The men that beat you. I take care of them. You no worry."
I knew it was totally wrong of Miguel, but I also knew that arguing the point wouldn't prove anything, but wearing me down. I had my lover to think about. I smiled, when I thought of Roberto as my `lover'.
As we drove up the country road, I asked, "How much farther?"
"Maybe five miles."
"Oh, okay."
Then, after about three minutes, not that i counted the division of time, I asked, "How much farther, Miguel?"
"Maybe four miles. By the way. I ask you something?"
"Okay."
"How come you not hate me for what I do to you?"
At the moment, my mind wasn't on it, but I wondered that myself.
"I don't know," shrugging my shoulders, even though I know he couldn't read my actions, his mind on the road.
"I hurt you and you don't say something to me."
"Oh," I thought, "I suppose meeting Roberto and all..." I couldn't define it, but tried, "you see, I believe things don't happen without a reason."
"You say then that if I didn't hit you behind the head, strip you down and tie you to my tow truck, you not meet Roberto?"
I was thinking, not hurrying my answer, even though it was a snap decision. Looking beyond what Roberto meant to me, not intentionally slighting him, I thought about the `other' good reasons.
"Huh? What you think amigo?"
I smiled at the endearment.
"You know, Miguel, I tricked Roberto into falling in love with him."
"That shit!"
"Oh? How does that go?"
"Roberto in love with you when he meet you first. How you say?"
"Love at first sight?"
"I guess. He not tell me, but as I watch, I see he like you very much. Then, like flower grow from seed, I see it blossom. I see he want you. But, I not see this til late."
"Late?"
"Not until I already let you be beaten. I... I am sorry that I did that."
His hand dropped from the steering wheel of the pickup, traversed the plaid seat cushioning and latched onto my hand.
"Are we almost there?"
"We are here."
Sure enough, the old, broken down station appeared.
"Before you go. I ask you something."
I waited, my hand on the door opener.
"You tell me you forgive me?"
"I forgive you, Miguel."
"Can you prove?"
"Prove? How am I going to do that? You want it in writing?"
"No."
With that, he pulled my arm, tilting the upper portion of my body towards his. I felt his stache on my upper lip.
"You... you're gay too?"
"It secret. Between you, me and Roberto."
Of course, his small circle of buddies knew.
"Sure. No problem, Miguel. And someday when I'm all healed up, maybe I'll come back and help you win that money back."
"Money?"
"The bet."
"Oh, you forget about that. Fool's money."
Hurrying into the front of the station, I walked swiftly towards the house portion, thinking to myself, `What am I crazy or something? Here, I survived beatings and I was asking for more? What a twisted mind!'
"Roberto?"
Lying in bed, the white sheet pulled up to his waist, where the tight treasure trail flowed from out of his navel. Looking up his body, the medium brown hair covering of his stomach, ending midchest, the rising and falling of his chest, swirls of hair around his nips, the peacefulness on his face. I couldn't wait to greet him, but reluctant to wake him. So I did the next best thing. Carefully, I dismantled my clothing, unbuttoning my shirt and pulling it back over my shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. When I bent to pick it up, I groaned. Still, the welts from the whipping caused pain, when stretched. Plus, I still had this dull ache in my gut, when I sat to untie my sneakers. I only had one problem when peeling off my briefs. I was hard! I lifted the sheet and climbed in next to him. Amazing that he didn't wake up, but I had been gentle, quiet. I hugged the pillow with one arm, placing my chin on his shoulder. Still no motion. I wanted so badly to touch him, but not awaken him. Taking my chances, I lay a hand on his fuzzy stomach. It worked. I lay there, in silence, except for the sound of inhaling and exhaling, looking him over, his chest rising and falling. He turned over. I didn't want to be in his way. After all, Miguel had warned me of his sensitivity, his `craziness'. I kept my distance, as Roberto turned towards me, yet still remained asleep. Our bodies remained inches apart. I wanted to reach out, touch, hug him. Yet, I didn't. With each breath, I felt the exhale on my chest, blowing my own follicles, stimulating me, in an erotic sense. I smelled his manscent. It started to overpower me, yet I kept my composure, even though my crotch was telling me otherwise. As if the sun flowed through the windows, touching his face, he awoke. I gulped. I didn't know what to expect.
"Hi," is all I offered, with a quaint smile.
He wasn't crazy, looney or bursting with insanity. Instead, he sniffled. As tears collected in his eyes, Roberto began to weep. I let go of all my inhibitions and brought my body closer to his. An inconvenience, the bandage on my nose, hurt when we kissed. Yet, together we found solace in each other.
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More `Road Trips' to come
Copyright 2006 T. Chase McPhee This story may not be sold, nor made part of any collection without prior written permission, by the author.