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Tales of Portland
The Uber Pickup
I had been waiting outside this house for several minutes, waiting to pick up my rider. After two minutes, it starts charging the rider, but it's not very much. Lost time is lost money, but if I wait it out, I'll get more. It sucks having to wait for someone is what I'm getting at. It was a normal looking house on a normal looking street. There's a little suburb development across the main road from the shopping center. It's a convenient place for a pickup, but I hadn't been in this neighborhood before.
More waiting. I started looking through my phone, and then looking at the house to see if I could detect any movement. I must have checked I was at the right address ten times by now. I messaged him that I was outside with a description of my car. He replied he'd be just another minute. This was getting annoying.
I've been doing Uber driving on the side for a few months now. I'm still pretty new to it, but I really enjoy it. The conversations, getting to know my city better, and hey--I just enjoy driving for the hell of it. I drive a new, smaller SUV. I keep it clean and smelling nice. So far, I haven't had to clean up any bodily fluids, so I call that a win, considering how many drunk people I've had in the car.
On this shift, I was wearing a purple polo and my heather gray joggers. The polo says I'm professional, and the joggers are just comfortable. Sitting in the car all day in jeans or khakis always crushes my nuts, so sweats or shorts are much preferable. Here in Portland, most people dress very casually, so I'm pretty sure my passengers don't care. I had all the buttons undone on my polo--I like showing off my chest hair. I'm a bit chubby, and there's not much I can do about that, so I try to enhance my appearance in other ways. I like my chest hair, and I wear a thin gold chain, so I think it overall classes up my look. I have a close shaved head, and a tight, curly beard I try to keep under control. I have an attractive, blemish-free face with deep-set green eyes. As long as I'm smelling nice, which I usually am, the overall effect is "nice guy who deserves a tip."
I took this delay as an opportunity to brush my beard into submission and check that the back seat didn't have any crumbs or sand or anything on it. You know I'm bored when I start cleaning. I keep the passenger seat all the way forward so I can quickly reach the back seat to keep everything in order back there between rides. Riders rarely leave belongings behind, but you'd be surprised how messy people can be.
I heard a door close, and looked up to see a man approaching the car. Finally! My annoyance quickly evaporated when I saw my passenger. He was gorgeous. I would guess 5'9", with full, smooth, longish black hair down to the shoulders in the back. He had sharply defined facial features, and looked to be latino and/or Native American. He was very muscular--not like a body builder, but like a serious athlete. His broad shoulders carried meaty arms and tapered down to a slim waist. It was his legs that sealed the deal. He was wearing an athletic T-shirt and soccer shorts, revealing enormous, well-defined quads. His knees were ripped, if that makes any sense, and his calves popped out, all the muscles stretching his skin tight and firm. I took this all in in a moment, allowed myself a second to appreciate his physique and attractive face, then I put on my customer service persona before he opened the door.
"Scott?" I confirmed by stating his name. He nodded and stepped inside, taking a seat in the back. As soon as he sat down, the hem of his shorts sprang way up almost to the crotch level revealing hairy muscular thighs. "Going to down by the mall?" I confirmed his destination. He assented, but was struggling with his seat belt. I turned to the back and leaned towards him as I pointed out the right way to do the seatbelt. I do this at least ten times a day, I can't figure out why so many people struggle with the seatbelt back there. Usually I'm a little annoyed by it, but in this instance, it was the perfect excuse to check out his body, take in his smell, even his breath, and surreptitiously check out his bulge, his shorts much tighter now that he sat down. It was his enormous thighs, tightening the thin fabric over his form. His breath was sweet and sour, warm and wet. I smelled chapstick. The rest of him smelled like clean clothes, but also a kind of salty, nutty, skin smell--like he'd been sweating but not to the point of body odor. His bulge revealed both flaccid shaft, cut, and low hanging balls. I couldn't really figure a size or length, but it wasn't small and I only took a brief glimpse. As he figured out his seatbelt and it clicked, his face rose, meeting my eyes and gave me a sheepish, embarrassed grin. One rush of air and I smelled his hair, from when he brought his head up--another rush when he let out a little nervous laugh and I got another smell of his breath. I smiled back, and returned to my seat, putting the car in Drive.
So sue me. I'm a people-watcher. I'm a people checker-outer. I can't help it. I don't know if everybody does this, but it can't be to this extent most of the time. I'm always noticing and paying attention to attractive people, especially men. I've always been surrounded by women at work and at home so I think men provide a little novelty for me. I try really hard to make sure I don't make people feel uncomfortable though. My gaze doesn't linger, and I never make comments about someone's body unless I actually know them enough, which isn't many people. And even then.
With the car moving, we started chatting. I asked if he was going to the gym, and he said he was actually going to work. He was kitchen staff at a restaurant, so I assume it must be really hot back there hence the athletic gear. Throughout our conversation he seemed a little out of breath, or full of breath seems like a better phrase. After a minute or two of chit chat, the conversation died down. I stole glimpses in the mirror of his legs, his hair, whatever happened to be in the mirror. I was determined to commit this one to memory. The drive was about 20 minutes so we had plenty of time.
I heard the sound of his hands on fabric. I looked back and he was rubbing his legs back and forth and he was breathing loudly, looking out the window. At first, I didn't think much of it, but he kept doing it and looking agitated. We stopped at a traffic light and I turned back to look at him. I asked if everything was okay. He looked nervously down at his crotch--naturally I looked down too, and I saw what the problem was. Unlike before, he had a raging boner now. It was long, thick, and pointed off to one side. He saw that I saw, and he started apologizing left and right, clearly embarrassed. I chuckled and tried to put him at ease and not to worry about it. He sighed relief that I wasn't being weird about it, and he told me the situation. He and his girlfriend had been making out and things were starting to get hot and heavy. He had already scheduled the Uber to take him to work because his car was in the shop. When he got the message from me that I was waiting, he was just in a towel from the shower and his girlfriend was feeling him up. He only had time to throw his clothes on and run out the door. I would go so far as to say he didn't even have time for that, since I was waiting so long, but I'm giving him the benefit of the doubt. Long story short, he was still revved up from his girlfriend's sexy post-shower attention.
I told him "Look, I totally get it. Happens to the best of us. I don't mind at all, you could rub one out back there for all I care--I've seen a lot worse back there, believe me!" Lies, all lies! Nothing remotely close to this had ever happened to me. I hadn't so much as had people making out back there. My lie had the desired effect. The light turned green and I started moving. He smirked at me a little. He paused, looking around, I assume to gauge how tinted the windows were exactly. "You sure?" "Go for it, man, I honestly don't mind." Don't mind?! I was going wild, hoping beyond hope that he was going for the bait.
I had to focus on driving for a bit, but the next time I glanced back there, he was rubbing himself over his shorts--his enormous erection leaving little to the imagination. I gave him a little thumbs up, and he laughed a little. He looked out the window like a 9 year old boy keeping a lookout for any adults that might catch us. He pulled his shorts down with his thumb, allowing his huge cock to bounce out. A few moments later, the smell of groin sweat and pre-cum met my nostrils. I took a deep breath in. So did he, for different reasons. He was getting into it. Taking a serious bate session. This wasn't going to be a quick release, he was stroking purposefully with his rough, muscular hands in steady, commanding pulses. He let a sigh out with his mouth closed. He was clearly feeling very good.
I struggled to focus on the road. I took every chance to look his way and marvel at this straight stud beating his monster meat...not for me, but in front of me. I was taking shallow breaths and trying to act cool. I encouraged him, "yeah man, go for it!" The next time I looked back at him he was looking back at me with a weird look on his face. He leaned forward and eyed my lap. I was busted. In my joggers, my own erection was not only clearly visible, also off to one side, but a teeny wet spot announced my precum. I hadn't even noticed, I was so focused on him and acting normal. Looking down would have definitely given me away.
"You're totally getting off on this!" he announced. I blushed, a bit ashamed. But then I realized that he hadn't stopped, he kept going. "You just love seeing this cock, don't you, perv?" Might as well go for broke here--I was already caught. I nodded yes, and he laughed. He seemed like a really light-hearted guy. He probably thought this was funny and was secure in his sexuality enough that he didn't feel threatened by my arousal. "Well I won't stop you either," and gave me a knowing up-nod as if to say "I showed you mine, now show me yours."
I had to get out of my head and disrupt the shame spiral ASAP. This guy, I assume as straight as can be, is essentially inviting me to jerk off with him. This was so incredible, it didn't even occur to me to fantasize about this. I took a deep breath in, smelled his scent and with my breath out I released myself from any moral hangups over this. Let's have fun. I gave him a devilish smile and said "Nothing wrong with a couple guys beating off." I kept looking back at him, and pulled my erection out of my pants.
"Yeah, man, now it's a party," he said with another flashy smile. I was imagining his big cock stretching out my ass. I felt a bit weak just creating a ghost sensation of it in my mind. He looked so strong and powerful, he could really fuck me hard. "Is this what you like? This big Mexican cock?" Okay, he was getting into this too.
"Fuck yeah," I growled, my smile turning to a pleasure fueled grimace. I pulled my phone out, showing him the screen as I pressed the "End session with this ride" button. He looked at me, his eyes getting wide. Maybe he hadn't counted on this, but I knew where I wanted this to go. If he wasn't game, he can just take off when he's done. "I'm thinking about that massive piece of man meat in my mouth. What are you getting off thinking about?"
He started panting. I noticed his rounded pecs as his chest heaved up and down off the seat, stretching his seatbelt. He moaned and increased his pace. "My girlfriend's hot, wet mouth, she's--"
"Your girlfriend ain't here, hermano," I cut him off, my voice barking with authority. "All you got is me, and my hot, wet mouth. Now try again: what are you thinking about?" I couldn't believe my confidence, this guy could easily overpower me, but I had surrendered to my lust and nothing made sense anymore.
"Fuck," he breathed out, continuing to pump his hard rod. I gave my own fuckstick another tug, my eyes fixed on the road I could only feel the precum leaking onto my fingers. "Fuck," he said, a bit more urgently, moaning a little. "Your beard." Hell yeah. "Your beard feels scratchy on my legs as you deepthroat my cock!" He seemed surprised at himself, but turned on nonetheless.
"Oh yeah man, facefuck me! Give me your thick load!" I tried to sound as straight as possible, adding an edge to my voice I didn't normally have. "I can feel your strong hands on the back of my neck as you slam into my throat."
He moaned again, rising in pitch. His face was getting more and more red. We were close to his work. We were still going back and forth describing our little fantasy while stroking our cocks. I could barely breathe, it probably wasn't very safe for me to drive under these conditions, but what else could I do? Driving a little fast through the parking lot, I pulled into an isolated space in the back.
"This is where you get off," I commanded him, not allowing any argument in my voice. I put the car in Park, and immediately adjusted my seat all the way back so I could turn towards him and finish the job. I was about to make sure he was okay with me touching him, but he grabbed my head with both hands and brought my mouth to his cock, yanking me out of my seat, my hand stayed glued to my hard rod. Fuck he was so strong. He handled my 250 pounds of hairy dad-bod like I was a ragdoll. I opened my mouth wide, no time to worry about teeth, and he rammed his wet, salty cock to the back of my throat. I gagged, yelped, and moaned in pleasure all at once, doing my best to keep my lunch down. I quickly pulled back off, grabbing his pole with my left hand to stroke and letting out my ragged breath, letting cock-drool ooze into my beard as he again two handed my skull back onto his prodigious manhood. He filled me up, replacing my open air passages with his slick cock. I couldn't breathe, I could barely move. I squirmed and he pressed me to him harder, pinning my neck on his groin with his forearm. Tears ran down my face, my eyes bugged out, as I struggled to make a sound. His power was intoxicating, and it was all too easy to surrender myself to it. I reached my hand under his knee, pulling him in to let him know I liked this. Without pulling out, he started fucking me, slightly further in, breaking the laws of physics, back out, pulling my stomach contents out before shoving himself back in, gagging me again as I swallowed back the bile and let him ravage my throat.
I finally pulled off completely, lightheaded and slobbering everywhere. My breath exploded out in an animalistic grunt and I wiped my mouth with my wrist. "Fuck," I growled, "Cum in my mouth," I begged. I brought my head down, ass in the air, bringing my face down to his groin while he furiously pounded his hand down on his own cock. He grabbed my chin with his left hand--his grip was strong and firm without hurting, and he held my mouth open as we held eye contact, locked to each other's gaze. He was sweating profusely, a deranged look on his face--he was desperate to come and about to get what he wanted. He brought his other hand to the back of my neck and pulled me back onto his cock, more gently this time.
One, two, three thrusts, and he held me there as he let out a high pitched moan and squealed like a little bitch "Aie, Scott, I'm cumming! I'm cumming!" I had a momentary warm internal smile, touched that he remembered my name and squealed it as he completely lost control. My lust took back over as I felt a flood of warm, salty-sour semen hit the back of my throat. It stung slightly on my sore throat as he coated my insides with it. I hummed a moan of appreciation as he screamed and grunted with each spasm. As he deflated, I sucked on his meat gently to get every drop out.
My back was all twisted from the awkward angle of everything. As he released his grip on me, I gravitated back to my seat, but I stopped myself, turning my hips to face him. I pulled out my throbbing erection, positioning my left knee on the center console, my right on the reclined driver seat and I faced him with my cock. My back was arched to one side, and my head was hunched over because of the low ceiling. "Fuck yeah, Scott, cum for me, you sick fuck!" he was commanding me with a low, intense voice. I felt the release coming and pushed my hips even further towards him. He undid his seatbelt and scooted closer to me.
"Shit, shit, shit! I'm cumming!" I howled as I fired off rope after rope with each spasm, spraying him all over with my seed. I started coughing as I moaned harder, my throat still feeling pain from the skullfucking. As my release faded, I slumped back into the seat, collapsing sideways, more tears streaming down my face. My passenger, clothes covered in my semen, sheathed his hardness back in those red soccer shorts. "Fuck, sorry about your clothes--your work--"
He cut me off. "It's fine, I wear an apron over everything anyway. Thanks for the ride, Scott." I loved the way he said my name. He opened the door, grabbed his stuff and walked out. He turned towards me and waved. I could see a glob of my semen flowing down his shirt, dripping off to the pavement leaving behind a long sticky filament. His cock was still hard, poking straight out barely contained by the fabric. He turned around and walked just like that all the way into the restaurant. I watched his retreat. He made no attempt to adjust himself, and I watched his round muscular ass--a new perspective for me--and then he entered the building. Now who's the sick fuck?
I stayed in the parking lot another ten minutes or so gathering myself and trying to come back to normal. I assessed the damage. Miraculously, I couldn't find any wet spots or cum stains. Nevertheless, the unmistakable smell of man sex lingered. I blew my nose a few times, and went to the trunk where I had a sweatshirt. I swapped my polo for the sweatshirt on my bare chest and pressed the "Go" button on my Uber app. I'll just go to my next ride with the windows down, clear the air a bit. I got a beep that told me "Avery G." requested a ride. I tested my voice--pretty raspy--and reached around to the pocket behind the driver's seat and grabbed a cough drop. Good thing I keep those around.
I breathed out a sigh of relief as the cough drop eased my sore throat. I pulled onto the highway following directions for the next ride. Another buzz, and I checked my app. "Jésus tipped you $50." I smiled wide, chuckling to myself. Oh Jésus, it was so much more than just the tip.
End