Damn if there ain't two tents going up here in the woods. The one I'm just finishing in my Forest Service campsite. And the other in my pants.
I mean, look at that guy! The guy in the campsite next to me. Big round biker-guy with his totally fat, red and chrome Harley. Dude's sitting with his back to me on top of his picnic table smoking a fat cigar. The sweet sour smoke drifts through the woods to my space and I have to stop for a moment and just fuckin' stare.
Biker must be 6'6", huge heavy grizzly arms and a broad back covered in black leather. He wears light blue jeans and black-leather chaps which shows off a magnificent, full, round bottom. He has a long brown and grey braided ponytail that reaches mid-back. His legs are spread wide and he just sits there smokin' his big ass cigar like the roughest fuckin' dude in the woods.
He turns his head back and catches me looking. I look away quickly and start restacking my campfire wood like that's what I was doin' and not starin' at this biker dude, jackin' off in my head. My cock is so rigid in my shorts, it's hard to bend over without adjusting myself. So I adjust myself. Pull my fat hard cock to one side of my shorts for some relief. I wonder if he saw? I take a peek and see he's starin' at my two-man tent like he's judging my ability to set one up.
Damn. He has a sexy fuckin' face. Full and round and darkly beard-stubbled. Eyes as black as night in the forest. A gruff expression, cigar clenched between his teeth. Red bandana on top of his head. Doesn't look like the kissing type, but damn it would be great feeling that stubble tanglin' with my beard, his tongue fillin' my mouth, the taste of him.
I look again and he's turned toward me, standing on the table bench stretching. He's wide at the belly and his arms are long and strong and I can just imagine them all wrapped around me and squeezing me blue, my face deep in his chest hairs, our cocks rubbing like bears nuzzling^Å
Damn. I'm getting some serious wood.
His package is massive, bulging out from his chaps. His belly drops over his black leather belt and he has a thick heavy chain that hangs from his front pocket to his back pocket. He could rip my head from my shoulders and gnaw my neck for dinner. Jesus Mary and Joseph.
I know, I know. Usually these guys are so totally straight and ready to beat the shit out of you if you approach them. So I'm playin' it as cool as I can even though I seriously want to jump on that and ride it all night. He reaches one beefy fist up and pulls the cigar from his mouth. Our eyes lock for a moment.
You ever come across a wild animal in the woods? Like a bear or a cougar? You know that feeling your heart gets like, "Shit, I'm about to die^Å"? That's how my heart is. Pounding like a pole driver. This wild animal of a man stares straight into me. Smoke rises in a thin line from the cigar in his hand. His other hand makes a fist. His lips look like they're growling, but I can't hear him from here.
I'm going to die here in this Forest Service campground for ogling a hairy, big-bellied, straight Harley biker and I'm going to die with cocksucking on my mind.
He jumps down off the picnic table and strides toward me. He says something, but I can't quite make it out. His makes a backhanding gesture with his arm and he's heading toward me.
"What the fuck you lookin' at?" he roars like a pissed-off grizzly bear. Heard it that time. I put on my punished dog face and duck my head a bit.
"Sorry. Sorry," I say. "Just lookin' around. Didn't mean anything by it."
I try a sheepish smile, but he keeps comin' at me. His chest is not as big as his belly, but I believe it'll be sufficient. I'm dead meat. He sticks his cigar in his mouth. He slaps one fist into his other hand.
"What did you say to me, Cocksucker?"
Something in his eyes. Those dark eyes, tellin' me how to play it. I take a deep breath like it's the last one I'll ever take. I rub my crotch slowly with a flat palm. Put on my calmest voice.
"I said, Sir, I was just lookin' the fuck around."
He stops straight in his tracks. His lips spread and he smiles, but only for a second. Then it's all mean dark grizzly again.
"That's fuckin' better," he says. He walks straight toward me and I try to step back, but I fall down onto the low bench of the picnic table. He steps right up between my legs.
"Take another deep breath, Cocksucker," he says in a low earthquake-growly voice. "You may need it."
He's standing inches away from me. His belly is licking distance from my face. His huge package is about at my neck and his face is a mile above. He takes a puff on his cigar and looks at me like he's waiting. I lean forward and take a long slow sniff at his belly. It smells of laundry soap and man's sweat and testosterone and I feel like I'm going to faint. He growls like he's satisfied.
"You like what you see, Cocksucker?" the biker says all low and growly.
I try to get enough breath to say, "Yes, Sir," but it comes out like a whine. I reach for his package. Before my hand gets to it, he slaps it away.
"Did I say you could touch me, asshole?" he growls.
Now I gotta tell you. I'm usually the one makin' the calls here. It's not that I'm a prick, I just have that dominant vibe and usually I end up having it done for me. I guess I'm pretty much a top. But there are certain men^Å sexy pushy chasers, chubs with an attitude or this fuckin' burly biker^Å these guys? Shit. They can do whatever they want with me.
"Fuck," I say under my breath, putting my hands down. Makes him grin.
"You think you're one tough sonofabitch, don't you?" he says, but it comes out sarcastic like he'll smack me for it.
"Sir," I say looking him in the eyes, "I am whatever you ask me to be."
He grunts assent and leans forward to put his cigar on the edge of the table. His arm goes past my head and I swear to Christ his upper arm is the size of my face. His chest comes dangerously close to me and I see the brown and grey hair bursting out of the triangle of his shirt. I close my eyes and sniff again. He doesn't pull away.
"Like the smell of a man, don't you, little Cocksucker?" he says. His hand goes to the back of my head and he shoves my face into his chest. My nose are in his sweaty chesthairs and I feel the soft muscle of his tits on each side of my face. My cock is as hard as stone and starting to come out of my shorts.
The biker straightens up, then leans back and pushes my face into his crotch. Jesus, his cock is so hard in those jeans and I can feel it throbbing against my nose and cheek and I can feel his big fuckin' balls against my mouth and chin. He rubs my face in his crotch and I'm willing. Fuck, I want it bad.
I feel for my cock. It's coming out of the bottom of my shorts and I pull the skin back and begin slowly rubbing it down. I grip the back of his meaty thigh with my other hand for balance. I breathe long heavy hot breaths into his package and feel his cock goin' nuts inside his jeans.
Suddenly, the biker pulls my head back by the hair so I'm lookin' in his face. "Did I say you could jack off?" the biker says.
I let go of my dick. "No, Sir," I say, "You did not, Sir."
"You cum first and I'll break your neck," he says. He grabs hold of his belt and unbuckles it. My mouth instantly waters. No shit. It fuckin' waters. I haven't sucked a cock in a while, since like I say, I'm usually the one gettin' sucked. But this guy's man enough for me and I'm ready to take it long and deep or any other way he wants it.
The biker opens his jeans. He's not got any underwear on. His belly is covered in rich brown fur and his bush is huge and dense and I really want my nose in it. His dick is solid hard and very thick. It's not huge, but it's stickin' straight out and will certainly do the job. His balls are almost hidden by long fur and are tucked nice and high above his taint.
"Nice cock, Sir," I say. "May I lick it, please."
The biker leans over and picks up his cigar and for a moment my head is crushed against his furry belly and dick. I open my mouth to receive it, but he pulls back and wags his finger at me. "Not till I say," he growls. He takes a couple puffs on his cigar.
I've never been so cockhungry in all my life. Swear to God, I'd do anything this man asks.
He reaches down with his meaty fist and slowly starts jackin' off in front of me. I whine like a puppy dog. I can't help it. There's gooey precum coming up through the slit in his cockhead. My tongue goes out to lap it and he pushes my head back.
He keeps slowly jackin' and the precum starts to drip off the edge of his dick all pearly and stringy and Jesus I can't fuckin' help myself. My tongue goes out to catch it and this time he doesn't stop me. I lap up his precum up and the musty taste makes me wild. I go openmouthed for his cockhead, but before I can slurp it into my mouth, he pulls his hips back.
"I don't know if you can handle this, Cocksucker," the biker sighs. "Maybe I should go find someone who can."
I'm practically apoplectic. "Oh no, Sir. No, Sir," I say. My mouth is full of saliva and that slight musky taste of precum and I want him so bad I'd burn the whole forest down to get at his cock.
"Please, Sir, I'll make you feel so good. I'm a good Cocksucker, Sir. Better than you've ever had before. I swear, Sir, you'll be pleased with your good fuckin' Cocksucker."
He pets the back of my head, his eyes to the sky, like he's considering it. He puffs and puffs on his cigar. He lets go of his cock and it throbs in midair right in front of my nose.
I think I'm going to pass out. "Please," I say.
I think I'm going to cry. Fuck. I'm serious. This top bear is completely cockcrazed and doe-eyed and ready to shed tears for this hot biker cock. "Please, sir," I whimper.
"Open your mouth," the biker says. I do. Wide. I'm so ready.
He jerks my face down on him and he fucks my mouth. No warmup, no soft sliding ^Ö we're talking about good old-fashioned, jawbreaking face fucking and I'm doing everything I can as his cock pumps in and out and in and out and in again, everything I can just to keep it in my mouth and the suction nice and strong and the guy's just growlin' like a bear fuckin' his only buddy.
His bulbous cockhead slams deep into my throat and I'm swallowing and sucking like a crazy man. My uvula is swelling as he pumps deep into me and I'm moaning, feelin' the awesome power and might of this hot biker cock fuckin' my face.
I feel like I'm gonna cum it's so hot. He fucks my mouth, holding hard to the back of my head and I'm nothing to him but a hot wet hole and that's all I want, to please this man, to be his cocksucker, to make him cum inside me for being the sweet piece of ass I am.
It doesn't take long before he pops. He groans loud as buckets of cum pumps into my mouth and streams down my beard and it's obvious this guy's not cum in a long, long time. I try not to get strangled on cock and cum, but I'm so happy and cockhungry I don't really care at this point.
The biker sighs deep and pulls his hips back. He slowly pushes it all back into his pants, cock and balls and bush and all. He zips up and buckles up. He's got a distant look on his face like he's got what he wanted and now it's time to go.
"Very good, Cocksucker," he says to me, patting my head. "You take direction very well."
He turns without much ado and strides back toward his campsite. I reach for my cock which is ready to burst with my slightest touch.
The biker turns to me mid-stride. "Did I say?" he spits at me.
"No, Sir," I say. I pull my hand away from my cock and instead start wiping the cum from my beard.
The biker grins. "Good little Cocksucker."
Later, getting ready for sleep, I watch the biker strip down to his beautiful, beefy, hairy biker skin, fuckin' naked as the day he was born. I watch from my campsite. My cock's still hangin' out of my shorts, beating, beating hard in midair.
He knows I'm watchin' him as he putters around his campsite, his big balls hangin' loose and his cock all soft but still quite ample. He reaches his arm into the air and scratches his armpit and I watch the hair there and my cock is going to split in two.
Finally the biker heads to his tent. Lifting the tent flap, he turns to me, rubs his hairy belly and shakes his cock and balls at me.
"All right, Cocksucker," the biker shouts. "Now!"
He watches as I jack off hard and fast, screaming with the pure pleasure of it, toes curling as I'm cumming all over the forest floor. The biker's got a twisted look in his eyes.
"You comin'?" he asks, holding open his tent flap.
"Yes, Sir!" I shout, runnin' for his campsite.
I guess, sometimes even us tough guys just gotta follow orders.