=======Of course you do not understand the title, but if you are under 18, do not hang around to find out. The rest are invited to be elucidated
Tucumcari is a small town in New Mexico. It's on Route 40. I have been through there many times on the way to Arizona. It consists of a main street, a few gas stations for the passing cars, a couple of motels and a place to eat or two. It's one of those towns that exist because of passing traffic-to serve them.
Now Cary, a nineteen-year old boy from Tucumcari happens to be one of those sexy boys who do not consider that they are satisfied until they cum twice, hence, two-cum Cary from-poetically-Tucumcari.
Cary had a nice life in this town. He worked at one of the gas stations. He didn't consider himself gay, mainly because he got paid for it. This is a misconception we all encounter and smile at the self-deception. Let them have their delusions as long as we get to play with them.
Tucumcari is not San Francisco, at least gay-wise. Cary knew of only one person in town who was into male sex. He was the young preacher from the western part of town, deep in the farm country of cotton fields. Preacher Joe initiated Cary into the joys of getting his penis wetly sucked, but when the Preacher got off his knees, young Cary-fourteen at that time-bawled inconsolably-that is, until Preacher Joe shoved ten dollars into his sweaty hands. Cary's face lit up with pride at earning his own money, especially in this pleasant way. When the Preacher attempted to rise from his kneeling position, Cary put his young, strong farm boy hand on Joe's head and held him down.
"What's up boy? Didn't I give ya more money than ever you earned afore? Didn't I pleasure you lak you never thought you could be pleasured afore?"
Cary smiled down at the bland, full face of the churchman. "Sure, all that's true, but I'm hankerin' for another helping, Padre.'"
Joe looked up at him in amazement and muttered something about being young, hung and unstrung, but he resumed his task at the rising cock not believing that the boy could actually spooge again. After some fine efforts by the valiant sucker, Cary let out a yelp of victory and unloaded as much sweet boy cum, if not more, than he did the first time.
When he finished, he held out his hand for another gratuity. Preacher shrugged, reached deep in his pocket and extracted another ten-dollar bill, still fresh from the collection plate.
Once Cary found out that day that his penis was a cash machine he began his career of sticking it in various mouths and extracting money from various men's pockets. He amazed all his suckers by demanding more.
Frequently he was cursed as a "two-timer" and a double dipper, but Cary just smiled his smile like the cat that ate the cream. His young Elvis good looks always won the day. The boy was smooth of cheek, lithe of body, big of cock and had attitude to spare. All this enchanted his conquests and enriched Cary.
This nice, neat arrangement continued through Cary's late teens and into his early twenties. If anything, his bright white teeth and sparkling eyes grew more appealing.
The way his little action played out was almost the same each time. Some drummer would drive into town, or a gay college kid, or even a hunky truck driver and stop to get gas at the station Cary worked at.
They took one look at Cary in his overalls, one strap hanging down exposing his luscious, smooth, muscular shoulders and they began to pant like dogs in the sun. They each thought they were original in asking for the men's room and then asking if'n Cary could show them where it was.
Cary explained that it was locked and that he had the key. He would walk them round back and open the door and enter with them. He was a master at knowing which man was hot for him. He could see their mouth watering and their knees shaking in excitement. Cary calmly opened the other brass button on the shoulder and let the whole overall slide down his body, past his strong chest, past his cute belly button and followed the treasure trail to his neat pubes, and finally stopped at his erection.
"Would you kindly free up my overalls so as they might fall down to my knees?"
The mark, with heavy breathing and shaky hands would pulled the overalls over the protruding, long fat cock and allow them to fall past the boys slightly hairy legs and ankles and to the floor. There he stood, a marvel of masculine beauty.
"Wal, ain't you goin' to suck it?" he said, not unkindly.
The truck driver, or the college kid or any one he brought to the grimy men's room would fall quickly to his knees, his mouth dripping spit and about to swallow the delicious looking cock when Cary would put a hand on the person's forehead, effectively stopping him and saying quietly, "My friends usually show their gratitude with an offering of ten dollars or more than I can donate to the church come Sunday."
They'd shake their heads vigorously agreeing. He knee they would agree to anything once they caught a glimpse of that fine cock. Then of course, Cary would be launched into the pleasure he loved. He'd close his eyes so nothing would interfere with the purity of the sensations traveling up and down his body, culminating in heavy vibrations that began in his full thighs and raced to his balls and then up the shaft of his penis and blasted into the sucker's mouth. That person would moan with happiness at the rural boy's pure, sweet cum. He'd gulp and moan and slather and lick until, sadly it seemed over.
Awkwardly, from his kneeling position on the hard cement floor he'd extract a tenner from his pocket, hand it over and start to rise, considering the money well spent. Cary would put a hand on the man's shoulder. "Stranger, you're not done. I'm a two-cumer. I couldn't rest today with only one cum. Git back down and git to work so as I can cum again."
Over the years, Cary became a legend up and down the highways of the west. Truck drivers, after a few beers, would relate their tales of this pretty, hunky boy who had the best cock in the west, and whose milk was grade "A". As far as Cary was concerned, he found his life perfect. His job was undemanding and the benefits he devised kept him happy and sassy, but as the years went by, and the boy Cary grew into the man Cary, his exceptional male attributes dimmed.
While he was still a good looking guy, his waist had thickened considerably and he sported a small round potbelly. His small face now was decorated with manly whiskers, reducing his boyishness. He noticed that age thirty had transformed him considerably. He still had "customers", old timers who had serviced him for years, but the young men seemed uninterested. He found that often he'd go a whole week without an emptying-not even one, let alone two. The poor fellow was in constant state of need.
Into his life, now growing a little bleak, there was one event that was positive. The old, lazy, fat manager of the station retired and the company naturally promoted Cary to the job. That gave him much more lazy time and he often drowsed away on his tilted chair in the doorway of the station watching his new hire take care of the customers.
He noticed with consternation and not a little interest, that the boy, Billy often disappeared in back with a customer, the wooden paddle with the key in his hand. They'd stay there quite a long time, finally they'd both exit, Billy with a satisfied smirk on his more than handsome face.
Billy had been on the job on three weeks now. As Cary watched him he felt himself drawn to the boy. At night he dreamed of the kid. He had to face it, he was in love with Billy, and he wanted Billy more than anything.
Billy deserved his admiration and lust. He was a cute, smallish boy, about five foot four, but in that frame he packed a ton of sexuality. His tousled, blond hair, sky-blue eyes, full mouth and bright teeth blended to make him the perfect object of desire. Add to that him surprisingly strong body and insolent expression you had the sex object to drive men mad.
Cary was his boss. Why not use his authority to capture the prize.
On the following Friday, payday, when the station was closing, Billy came in to collect his week's pay. Cary gulped when he saw him. Billy had removed his shirt, preparatory to washing up and his smooth, muscled chest glowed in the fading light.
Billy didn't need an engraved invitation or a caption for the scene. He saw Cary's face, flaming red, his tongue-tip protruding from his mouth, like a dog before a bone.
Billy smiled.
"You needy, Boss?"
"I sure am. You offering?"
As an answer, but not the one Cary expected, the boy, with one pull, opened the brass buttons on his jeans. They slipped down his body. No underwear to impede them. His cock was stiff and lying against his six pack.
Billy nodded his head, directing his eyes to a space on the floor in front of him. The small gesture was unmistakable. Cary, in the past would have laughed and sent the boy on his way, but today he was blind with passion. He had to have this boy or he'd plumb die.
He signed a deep sign of resignation and sank to his knees in supplication to worship that boyish cock. His tongue came out of his mouth and he licked the cock. The taste was new to him, but he got a small pearl of precum and that sealed his fate. It was as though that was an elixir of love. He moaned out loud and drove onto the prick, allowing it to enter deep in his mouth. He licked and sucked madly. Finally, with a laugh, Billy called down to him. "Mr. Cary, take yur time, we got all night. Enjoy the feast, don't bolt yer food, as me Ma used to say."
Cary barely heard him. His ears were buzzing with blood pounding in them. His eyes were tightly shut. Only his mouth was alive and it continued to suck and lick with greater vigor. Somewhere in his addled brain he knew he had to get his reward, the boy's spooge. What with the might effort, Billy couldn't hold back. He called out to the world that he was delivering the milk.
His prick became a hose as steamed of topnotch farm boy milk spewed into Cary's eager mouth. Cary felt Billy's legs shaking and buckling. He grabbed the back of the boy's knees and together they weathered the activity of sucking out the last drops and bucking of Billy's hips.
At last it was over. Cary felt a little disappointed. Maybe he should have slowed down so he could enjoy longer, but at least he seduced the boy successfully.
Cary began to rise. Billy said, "Oh no guy, I need another session now. I always do. Git down there and git me off agin."
Cary was about to refuse, but the chance to get that lovely prick in his mouth again drove him to moan slightly as he resumed his sucking. This time he suckled gently until Billy became impatient.
"Boss, do it! Don't play with me."
Cary, duly chastised returned to his task. Billy, still not satisfied put the palms of his hand on the sucker's cheek and began a fucking motion into the hot mouth. Cary gagged several times but he stayed in position. At last Billy called out, "Here it comes. Swallow it gay boy."
Billy pulled up his pants, laughing as he buttoned up, "You sure are a hot one. Let's do this often. You don't have to pay me. It's a gift to the boss.
End
What goes around cums around, right?