A gay story: Hitchhiking A repost to fix the lack of a condom that many people pointed out to me. A massive thank you to the people in the Feedback forum for helping me fix a couple of things in this.
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Max Field was not a happy bunny. It was pitch black, fucking freezing and it had just started raining really, really hard. Oh, and he was outside in this. With nothing even vaguely waterproof; not even his bag, unfortunately.
There hadn’t been any nice people for forever. What Mom had told him about the north of England being friendlier than the South was clearly a lie; or maybe it just didn’t apply to skinny blond American hitchhikers who were stupid enough not to pack for British weather.
He was really, really cold. His hair would be insane tomorrow.
More cars zoomed past. Even their taillights seemed smug. Max contemplated swearing at them.
A sleek black BMW slowed to a stop in front of him. Max gaped at it like an idiot. If there was a law of hitchhiking, it was that cars like that never stopped for people like him. The window rolled down with a faint purr and a middle-aged man leaned across from the driver seat.
“You want a lift, mate?”
“God, please,” Max blurted. The man smiled and Max could feel his face going red. “But I’m all …” He gestured to his “jumped-into-a-swimming-pool-fully-clothed” appearance. The man shrugged.
“It’s fine. I have a heater.”
“What’s your name?” the man asked Max when Max had settled down in the seat with his sodden carry bag at his feet.
“Max, hi, you?”
“I’m Douglas, pleased to meet you.” They shook hands.
“Seriously,” Max babbled, “thank you so much! It’s completely crazy out there!”
Douglas chuckled. “Yeah, it is fairly awful tonight.” He ran his hand over his short blond hair, ruffling it upwards – Max could see a lot of grey at the roots and wondered whether it was dyed.
They edged out into the traffic. As they began to pick up speed, Max shut his eyes and relaxed. In the warm at last.
He could hear Douglas changing through the gears. In his first few car rides (especially the one from London to Cambridge) he had watched with interest the movement of the shift stick – he had never driven one and never really seen anyone else driving one, either. But it seemed like everybody drove with them in Britain, and he was too apathetic from the cold to bother to watch again.
As a result, he jumped a mile when the man’s hand landed on his leg.
“Shit, sorry!” Douglas said. His ears were red. “I missed the gearstick.”
“No problem,” Max assured him. He was sure he’d do the same if he had to cope with one those fiddly things. Automatic was way better. The tiny immoral part of him pointed out that he wasn’t averse to good-looking men grabbing his leg, even if there was an age gap and potentially dyed hair involved.
“Not used to having someone else in the car.”
“No family, then?”
“No.” Douglas looked uncomfortable. Max’s immediate thought was a divorce, though maybe his parents had just oversensitised him. “You?”
“No kids or anything, nah.” Max wanted to add “I have a boyfriend,” but if this guy, as nice as he was, turned out to be a homophobe then he’d have to find someone else to give him a lift. And he’d just started to dry off, too.
“No girlfriend?” Douglas asked, flicking on his indicator to change lanes and overtake a red Volvo. Max shook his head. His heart rate picked up. He wasn’t sure whether he was relieved or disappointed when Douglas didn’t ask about boyfriends. It implied that the possibility hadn’t even crossed his mind, which meant he was straight – and it was so wrong that Max automatically equated straight middle-aged man with homophobe but he did. He made a mental note to be careful with what he said.
The motorway stretched out in front of them, featureless and hypnotising in its endless sameness. It was starting to get dark. Max rested his head against the window and let the mass of grey blur past.
“So why are you travelling to Glasgow?” Douglas asked, jolting him back into reality. “Oh, I’m sorry for waking you – ”
“It’s fine, I wasn’t really asleep,” Max said, grinning at the man. He smiled back. “Anyway, so, yeah, I’m going to Glasgow to meet up with my b-” shit, “my friend, who’s there on business.” He prayed Douglas hadn’t noticed the slip. There was a long, heart-stopping pause, but then the older man nodded.
“You should take a look around the city while you’re there. It’s quite amazing.”
“I should,” Max agreed. “Thanks.”
Ten minutes later, and the road in front of them lit up with what looked like hundreds of red brake lights. The car joined the back of a queue that stretched as far into the distance as Max could see, and came to a dead stop.
“Fuck’s sake!” Douglas thumped the dashboard then shot an apologetic look at Max.
“My thoughts exactly,” Max muttered. He slid the shoulder strap of his seatbelt off and leaned forwards until his elbows were on the dashboard, then dropped his chin onto his hands. “I hate waiting for things.”
Douglas grunted in agreement.
Time passed by. Max banned himself from clock watching after the eighth time. He got his phone out and ran his thumb over the buttons thoughtfully. He didn’t know who to text. Or what to text. Hi, stuck in traffic jam with sexy english gentleman, bored? He could imagine Alan’s response to that. For a straight guy, Alan could be a little obsessed with the idea of Max getting some.
“Max?”
He jumped so badly that he nearly dropped his phone. “Yeah?”
“There’s a packet of chocolate bars in the back, could you get me one out? Have one yourself if you want.”
“Ok.” Max fully undid his seatbelt and wriggled around so that he could reach the back seats. “Ooh, English chocolate!”
“What did you think it was going to be?” Douglas said dryly. Automatically, Max turned around and stuck his tongue out at him. It was something he did without thinking to any of his friends, but Douglas was a virtual stranger, and older, and had that cool British stoicism thing going on and ugh he couldn’t believe he’d just done that.
“Sorry!” He handed Douglas the chocolate bar, knowing his face was going red.
“Don’t worry about it,” the older man said with a chuckle. They munched on their chocolate in companionable silence for several minutes, when suddenly Douglas asked,
“Did you mean to say ‘boyfriend’ earlier, Max?”
Fuck. Max’s brain stalled. “Um … I … no …” He could see in his peripheral vision that Douglas was looking at him, but he stared fixedly out of the windscreen, watching the fat raindrops splatter against the glass.
“It’s ok,” Douglas said quietly. “I’m not homophobic. It’s fine. I was just curious.”
Max breathed again. “Thank fuck,” he accidentally said out loud. “I thought you’d dump me by the side of the road or something.”
Douglas chuckled. “No, no. I wouldn’t do that. Not when your hair looks like it’s just dried off.”
Max reached up and squeezed a hunk of his hair. Sure enough, it was damp rather than drowned-rat-saturated. He grinned at Douglas who smiled back.
“So, you do have a boyfriend?” Douglas asked, turning his head to look at the immovable cars in front of them.
“Yeah.” Max pulled a face. “Well, on and off.” He sighed. “We had an argument just before he left, and we’ve technically broken up. He’s got the worst temper ever.”
“Did he hit you?”
“No!” Max went red when he realised that he had shouted. “No, he would never hit me. But he does hit the walls, and the furniture. It’s a good thing he makes a decent salary or he’d be living in a cardboard box, I swear.”
“What did he break this time?” Douglas asked. His voice was hushed, as though this was a dangerous topic. Max rubbed his face with one hand and sighed again.
“Oh, stuff. Mashed his hands up pretty badly and wouldn’t let me fix them up. That got me mad so I didn’t apologise, and he’s got this thing about never saying sorry ’til I do, so …” He trailed off. Douglas made a disappointed tutting sound.
“It doesn’t do to put pride before love,” he chided.
“Yeah, yeah,” Max muttered, trying not to be as rude as he suddenly wanted to be. What business was it of his, anyway? What did he know? “Are you gay?” he demanded. Douglas’ silence was suddenly stony.
“Well, then,” Max said sulkily. He felt suddenly guilty, as though he had crossed an unwritten line, and renewed fears of being dumped outside in the cold surged up.
A few tensely silent minutes later, the queue began to move. Feeling like the situation needed something over the top, Max whooped and slapped the dashboard. Douglas laughed and reached for the shift stick. He got Max’s leg again instead. And this time, he didn’t take it away immediately. The palm was hot and all five fingers curved around Max’s leg just above the knee in an almost imperceptible squeeze.
Just as Max was about to say something, Douglas took his hand off and put it onto the shift stick. Max looked at him; his ears were red and he was frowning.
Well, Max thought to himself as the car inched forwards. Well, well, well. So, no matter how Douglas cared to define himself, he had homoerotic impulses which were currently directed at Max.
What to do now? If Douglas made another move and Max directly rejected it, he was sure he would be dumped at the next service station. Add to that the fact that right now he felt very little loyalty towards Kai, and that he had been thinking Douglas was attractive since first seeing him through the car window and top it off with the fact that no-one would ever know and suddenly the decision was made for him.
God, you’re a whore, Max, he told himself. An immoral little slut.
“It’s ok,” he whispered, so quietly that at first he wasn’t sure whether or not Douglas had heard. But then he heard Douglas let out a long, shaky sigh and thought that would do it.
The queue ground to a halt again. Douglas put the car into neutral, then slid his hand from the gearstick to Max’s leg. Again, he squeezed it; gentle at first, but then when Max made no move to stop him, he began to squeeze more firmly. His hand moved up Max’s leg. Max was surprised and pleased to feel the warm stirrings of arousal from just that one touch.
Neither of them were looking at each other, both staring straight ahead out the window even though it was getting dark enough outside for Max to faintly see his own face reflected back.
Douglas’ fingers were pressing on Max’s inner thigh, mere milimetres away from his denim crotch. Douglas flexed his hand; two knuckles brushed against Max’s crotch. Max tried to suppress the moan that wanted to come out, managing to squash it down to a gasp instead. He spread his legs wider, marvelling as he felt his cock already twitching. He wondered if the jeans were tight enough for Douglas to see the beginnings of his hard-on.
He heard Douglas catch his breath with a noise very similar to the one he had just made, and guessed that, yes, it was probably visible.
“You too?” he asked in a whisper, still staring out of the windscreen. If he concentrated, he could see not only his face, but Douglas’ too.
“Yes.” It was almost a pant; Douglas was clearly much more aroused than Max.
Max grinned at the thought. “How long have you been turned on for?” There was a silence and Max hoped he hadn’t accidentally said something outrageous.
“Since I first touched your leg. More so when you let slip you had a boyfriend.” Douglas audibly swallowed. “Does that bother you?”
Max laughed. “No,” he said truthfully, “it’s pretty hot to know I made you feel like that.” He wriggled closer to the right side of his seat, trying to get Douglas to move his hand again.
“Are you definitely comfortable with this, Max?”
Max couldn’t quite believe what he’d just heard. Was the guy stupid? He turned his head and looked straight at Douglas, at the older man’s not-quite-in-focus eyes and half open, almost panting mouth.
“Touch me, Douglas,” he demanded. A thrill raced down his spine and straight into his cock at his own audacity, and at the sudden look in Douglas’ eyes. The older man’s hand cupped Max’s bulging cock without any further encouragement, and this time Max allowed the groan to roll from between his lips. “Oh, yeah,” he breathed as Douglas began to massage it. He pushed against the older man’s hand, wanting as much contact as possible. When that didn’t do enough, he unbuttoned his jeans and unzipped them. Douglas withdrew his hand, much to Max’s intense displeasure.
“Are you cer-”
Max scoffed loudly and looked at Douglas again, nodding towards the large lump in Douglas’ neatly pressed black trousers. “Look, you want to, I want you to, so where’s the problem?”
Not waiting for Douglas to answer, he hooked his fingers into his belt loops and pulled and wriggled like a mad thing. Stupid damn skinny jeans! Move! Gradually they relinquished their barnacle-grip on his ass and slid down. He gasped out loud as the material dragged over his cock, which, now held only by thin boxers, sprang up eagerly. The jeans got stuck at his thighs. He swore and tugged at them fruitlessly.
“Allow me.” Douglas leaned over the shiftstick and put one hand on each of Max’s legs, just below the knee, gathering up what little slack there was. The side of his face was very close to Max. Mischievously, Max leaned forwards and whispered, “Hi,” in his ear as breathily as he could, then nibbled on his earlobe. Douglas let out a tiny, faint groan, the first proper noise he had made so far, and slid Max’s jeans down to his ankles.
Max moaned as Douglas put his hand back on Max’s exposed upper thigh. The heat from his hand on such a sensitive piece of bare skin felt fantastic. He moaned again, louder, and felt his cock stiffen even further. Looking down, he saw that it was actually poking out of the waistband of his boxers. A quick look to the side confirmed that Douglas could see that too; he was staring at it with hungry, glassy eyes and panting like he had just run a mile.
“Come on,” Max hissed through his teeth. He watched eagerly as Douglas pulled down his boxers, leaving them just above his knees, and then, finally, took hold of Max’s naked cock. Max made a noise somewhere between a moan and a shout as Douglas began to jerk him off with long, hard strokes. “Oh, fuck, yeah, that’s so fucking good,” he gasped.
Now that he was finally being satisfied, he looked over to Douglas and was shocked to see that although the man looked to be fully erect inside those usefully loose trousers, he wasn’t doing anything about it! “Do you want me to do you too?” he asked, feeling guilty for not thinking about this earlier.
Douglas looked shocked, then excited. “I didn’t think … of course … thank you,” he gabbled. Max laughed. Douglas let go of Max’s cock and undid his trousers; they were around his ankles in seconds and his boxers followed.
Max eyed the new sight with interest before reaching for it; it was smaller but thicker than his own and nestled deep in a mat of dark blond hair. It was strange and exciting to see such a similar colour to his own, he had never been with another blond before.
Douglas apparently thought that Max’s staring had another motive because he went red and muttered, “I know it’s a bit untidy – ”
“Yeah, because you so could have predicted you were going to trade handjobs with some random hitch-hiker,” Max said sarcastically. He looked out the window and scowled. “Cars are moving.” Douglas looked too.
“Not much.” He put the car into gear. The car covered all of two or three metres before grinding to a halt again. Douglas looked at Max with bright eyes, licked his lips and said, “This queue’s going to stay for a while, I think.”
“What a pity,” Max joked, and curled his fingers around the root of Douglas’ cock. He gasped with pleasure as Douglas took hold of him again and started to pump away. He tried his best to focus on giving Douglas a decent handjob, but he was so turned on that all he could really think about was bucking his hips against Douglas’ hand, trying to drive him on. “Faster, please, faster,” he begged, and gave a long drawn-out moan when Douglas complied, his hand moving so fast that without the copious amounts of pre-cum Max was leaking, it would have hurt.
In return, Max upped the speed of his hand on Douglas’ thick cock, and the man made a noise somewhere between a hiss and a gasp.
Max adored this stage of arousal; he felt like a piece of clockwork that someone had wound up to breaking point, like all of his internal organs were contracting and twisting in preparation. His head was already beginning to go fuzzy; this was going to be an awesome orgasm.
“You’re driving,” Max said as best as he could between loud moans and gasping for air, “and I’m … I’m gonna come, Doug. You might wanna … move your hand.” Precum was sticky enough as it was; he didn’t wanted Douglas trying to wipe enough cum off his hand to drive.
“Bugger, you’re right,” Douglas panted, sounding irritated. “Ok. Ok, Max, tell me exactly when you’re going to come.” He rubbed his thumb over the tip of Max’s cock, and Max bucked so much that he crushed Douglas’ hand against the dashboard.
“Now,” he gasped, thrusting his hips madly as he drowned in the fantastic sensation, “now, I’m gonna fucking come, oh fuck, Douglas, so fucking good, fucking hell, oh!” Douglas let go. Max reached for himself with both hands, frantically pumping his cock with one hand while the other fondled his balls. He screamed at the top of his voice as his cock began to spasm, and he came so hard that the world greyed out.
He blinked back into the world just in time to hear Douglas emit a loud, animalistic sounding grunt. He looked just in time to see Douglas’ face contorting as he came.
Max managed a weak smile but Douglas was too drained to do anything more than loll his head against the headrest with closed eyes and pant like a dog.
By the time the queue began to move again, Douglas had recovered enough to drive. They moved further this time, staying in motion for three or four minutes. Max took the time to clean himself up as best he could with some tissues Douglas found for him in the glove compartment, and couldn’t help but watch as Douglas did the same one-handed.
At least Douglas only had to clean up his lap. Max had somehow managed to splatter the windscreen in front of him.
“I haven’t come that hard in months,” he admitted with a grin. Douglas snorted and clapped Max companionably on the knee.
“Max, mate, I haven’t come like that in years!” He seemed so happy that Max couldn’t help but grin back. “I didn’t even need my hands to finish myself off!”
“Did you watch me coming?” Max said archly. Douglas’ face went the sort of blank that meant “Yes, but you weren’t supposed to know that!” and Max laughed. He reached over and toyed with Douglas’ limp cock, gently stroking the shaft and bouncing the balls very softly in his palm.
Douglas sighed and seemed to melt in his seat. Max was amazed to feel the tiniest twitch under his lazy fingers. God, what was that, five minutes? “Not bad for an old guy!” he said admiringly. Douglas gave him a mock-stern look. “How old are you, anyway, oh ancient one?” Max teased.
“I’m,” Douglas hesitated slightly, looking embarrassed, “forty-eight. What about you, little lad?” He smirked at Max’s pretended affronted look.
“Nineteen, thanks very much.” Max gave Douglas’ cock a hard squeeze, calculated for both pleasure and pain. It twitched again in response. An idea began to form in Max’s mind, and he started to work Douglas’ cock more methodically.
“I won’t be good for another go for another couple of minutes,” Douglas said almost apologetically, patting Max’s wrist. Max shrugged.
“‘S’all good.” They sat in silence for a moment.
“You’re very loud,” Douglas said with a chuckle. His hand was still resting on Max’s wrist.
“Yeah.” Max felt himself going red again. He remembered the scream when he had come, and cringed. “D’you mind?”
“No.” Douglas squeezed his wrist reassuringly. “Not at all.”
“Thanks.” He kept toying with Douglas’ cock, almost caressing it. Douglas stroked Max’s wrist with his thumb as if in thanks.
“So,” Max began, “are you up to telling me why you pulled a face when I asked about your family?”
Douglas’ hand left his wrist and he heaved a heavy sigh. “I suppose it’s only fair.” He shifted his position and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “It’s easy for your generation,” he said eventually. “When I was your age, doing this would have been illegal – the age of consent for homosexual sex was 21, with extra conditions. It was also considered a mental disorder and five, ten years before had been illegal.”
“So you hid?” Max guessed. Douglas snorted.
“Oh, yes. I hid all right. I hid so well that I somehow managed to convince a beautiful young woman to fall in love with me. We got married, because that was what you did back then. Well, if you had my parents you did. No living in sin.”
He shifted his hips. This time it wasn’t to do with what he was saying, but with the success Max was having with his cock. “But, as you can imagine, the marriage was a disaster. We both had pretty open affairs with other men. Thank God there were never kids; we hated each other virulently by the end.”
“When was the end?” Max asked, his fingers dancing over Douglas’ balls.
“Ten years ago.” Douglas’ hips moved a fraction forwards as his breathing hitched.
“You not been in a relationship since?” Max guessed. Douglas shook his head.
“No. I just kept doing what I knew how to do, picking men up in clubs and in cruising spots. And paying for rentboys, sometimes. Maybe once a year if I got desperate.” He tightened his grip again on Max’s wrist. “What about you? Do you usually go for older men?”
Max chuckled and shook his head. “Never have. Oldest guy I’ve ever been with previous to this was late twenties. Or maybe early thirties, I forget.” Douglas was hard and hot underneath his hand. “I know a couple of older men I could try and hook you up with, though,” he said lightly, phrasing it as a joke but wondering whether he’d take it seriously.
“How old?”
“Twenty-nine and early forties, I think.” Max gave Douglas’ cock a critical look. “That’ll do.” He wriggled around in his seat, then leaned forwards. The shiftstick poked him uncomfortably in the abdomen, but he could ignore it. He began to suck gently on the tip of Douglas’ cock, pushing his tongue hard against the slit.
“What – oh!” Douglas stopped breathing momentarily then let it out in a wobbly gasp. “Hell, Max …”
Max smiled as he felt the cock twitch in his mouth, and Douglas’ hands rest on his head. He started to tease the older man, going up and down the full length of his cock with kisses and licks, swirling and pushing it with his tongue, all the while letting Douglas’ balls move in and out of his loosely clasped hand. “Like it?” he said, swiping a drop of precum from the tip with his tongue. Douglas’ fingers tightened in his hair as a response.
Encouraged, Max blew warm air on the moist tip, then leaned down and, very slowly, took him completely into his mouth until his lips were pressed flush against Douglas’ body. He could feel his much-beleaguered gag reflex kicking weakly away at the intruding cock, and gathered from the way Douglas’ breathing was coming in short, ragged gasps that the effect was actually beneficial.
Soon, Douglas was moving his hips, trying to buck against Max’s face. That was virtually impossible though, since Max was doing it sideways. Max was pretty pleased about that, really, he didn’t want to accidentally be facefucked into anything important, like the steering wheel or shift stick.
He raised his head, removing his lips with a muted pop, then twisted his neck until he could get the older man’s balls in his mouth. He closed his mouth ever so gently and hummed. Sometimes he liked to pick tunes when he did this, but this time he mind had gone so blank that he ended up doing the national anthem.
Just the same as every guy that Max had ever done this on, Douglas went wild for it. He bucked his hips again and again and groaned more loudly than he had before. His fingers were clenched into fists in Max’s hair but he couldn’t push down because of the rather delicate nature of what Max held in his mouth. Max gloried in the knowledge that this time this arousal was something he had actively caused.
Suddenly, however, the hands in his hair were pulling him up.
“Moving,” Douglas said breathlessly. Max swore and sat back in the passenger seat. His lips were swollen and sticky, and he made quite sure that Douglas was looking at him before licking off as much as he could.
By now, the queue had almost completely cleared. Douglas looked just as pissed at this as Max was. As the car drove on, quickly passing the legal speed limit, Max saw Douglas’ hand continually drift down from the steering wheel to give himself several hard strokes.
“Why did you do that?” Douglas asked. His voice was hoarse.
“Complaining?” Max said, licking his lips again. “Don’t get yourself off, ok? I want to do it.”
“Don’t get yourself off?” Douglas repeated in a strangled voice. “I can’t drive like this for much longer!”
Max laughed. Douglas gave him a look that was partly exasperated and partly pleading.
So Max explained how he hadn’t done anything much the first time around, how he’d pretty much just sat there and let Douglas’ hand lead him to the biggest orgasm he’d had in months. How he had felt that something good was owed in return.
“Is there anything I can do for you?” Douglas asked. His grip on the steering wheel was white-knuckled. Max gave a cursory, disgusted look towards his flaccid penis and shook his head. “Not even just start it off?” Douglas reached for Max’s cock, but Max caught his hand and put it back on the steering wheel.
“No. It’s too sore. It’ll stay like this for a bit longer.” To demonstrate, he closed his fist ever so lightly around the middle of his shaft, the area Douglas had paid most attention to, and removed his hand very quickly. It felt like the skin was red-raw, even though it looked utterly normal. “And it’s fine, really. I like watching.”
Douglas frowned, but left the conversation there. Max was glad. He had had some very nasty previous experiences where his partners hadn’t taken him seriously and had assumed his cries of pain were of pleasure – before he punched them, that was. After that they had tended to wise up and stay away for as long as it took.
A sign for a service station came up, and Douglas put on his indicator.
“I can’t drive like this,” was all he said.
They parked near the back. Not at the back, Douglas instructed with a voice of experience, because then people get suspicious. Just far away enough from most people to not be immediately obvious.
Before Douglas had even turned off the ignition, Max had leaned over and slid his mouth down the full length of Douglas’ cock again. He drew his teeth very, very softly up the length, then worked his tongue on the way down as furiously as a child would lick a melting ice lolly. Douglas was groaning again, loudly, and gasping for air so badly that Max did briefly wonder whether he should pull back and wait a bit. But this tasted so good and the feeling of pure power that always came with having a guy’s most prized possession between his teeth was too good to pass up. He hadn’t given head in way too long.
Douglas let out a particularly deep grunt and made a noise that could have been Max’s name. Max felt the man’s balls lift and his cock twitch in preparation. He repositioned himself so that his lips were
sealed around the top third of the cock and there was plenty of space in his mouth. Douglas’ orgasm hit, and cum spurted into Max’s waiting mouth. He swallowed it hungrily, making sure his automatic noises of delight were loud so that Douglas could be quite sure Max was enjoying himself. He swallowed every last spurted drop, then cleaned up the head with flat, sloppy licks.
“Fuck’s sake, Max,” Douglas said, his voice barely a whisper. Max laughed and rested his cheek on Douglas’ soft upper thigh. He stared at the flaccid cock right in front of him and licked his lips absentmindedly. From that angle and with Douglas’s legs spread wide, he could see something else, too. Something tantalising.
“I want to fuck you,” he whispered. His heart was pounding in his ears. He didn’t think that Douglas had heard, so he began to sit up. He was stopped halfway up by Douglas’ intent gaze.
“You missed a bit,” the older man whispered. He reached out and stroked Max’s cheek, rubbing at one was obviously a spot of cum with his thumb. Max closed his eyes and sank back into the passenger seat, face still turned to allow Douglas’ right hand access. Stupid mental arousal not corresponding with the non-existent physical arousal between his legs! He hated it when this happened! Why couldn’t he have just lost interest, like normal?
“Are you that aroused?” Douglas asked. One of his stroking fingers brushed over Max’s lips; Max opened his mouth and closed his lips around the digit, applying suction and tongue briefly before letting it go again.
“So fucking much.”
Douglas nodded at him, his face utterly unsmiling. “Get in the back.” He jerked his left hand backwards for emphasis.
“What?” Max asked foolishly. Ridiculously, his first thought was that Douglas was relegating him to the back seat because he had had his fill. Douglas’ right hand dropped to Max’s shoulder and gave it a little shake.
“Did you mean what you just said, Max?”
“Y-Yes,” Max stammered, “but …” He gestured widely at their laps and their matching flaccid cocks.
His hand trailed slowly down Max’s T-shirt. “I think we can make it an enjoyable wait, don’t you?”
They got into the back. Douglas (after a thorough look to see whether anyone was around because he didn’t want to put his trousers back on) got out of one door and in via the back, while Max just worked off some of his frustration by fighting his way over the seat to land on the back with a thump. Once they were sat side by side, Max pulled off his T-shirt and chucked it back to the front seat. Completely naked, he looked at Douglas challengingly. Douglas looked away, going red.
“You’re in such amazing shape,” he mumbled, the inference of “but I’m not,” as clear as crystal. Max scoffed and reached for the buttons on Douglas’ white shirt himself. He grinned as inch by inch, Douglas’ body became visible.
Ok, so it wasn’t like the perfect, chiseled abs that he was used to from his last few boyfriends. There was a little pot belly and the beginnings of man boobs, and everything was covered in coarse hair. Max didn’t care. He didn’t care at all.
He nestled his head against Douglas’ chest, tongued his nipples one by one, gave the excess stomach fat a big, toothy lovebite, nibbled from just below his ear all the way down to the edge of his pubic hair. All the while his hands were playing with Douglas’ flaccid cock. Already it felt familiar to the touch, and just the thought of the taste and texture of it pressed long and hot against his tongue made his head whirl.
The idea of fingering him actually made him dizzy with lust, but still nothing from his cock. Nada. Not even a twitch at the pit of his stomach to signal there might be something soon. Nothing.
For. Fuck’s. Sake. Seething inside, he renewed his ministrations more fiercely than before, only to find both his hands caught at the wrists. He raised his to ask what Douglas was doing, and found his lips captured.
They were kissing. Somehow, stupidly, this felt like the most intimate thing that they had done so far. Max tried to set the pace that his desire demanded, all lunging and biting and licking and pushing with his tongue, but Douglas refused to rise to the bait. Even his wandering hands were slow and steady.
Douglas still tasted like that chocolate bar.
“You’re beautiful,” Douglas whispered as he moved his mouth delicately over Max’s hot face. Max shuffled closer, there was tangle of legs, and suddenly they were chest to chest, arms wrapped around each other, and Max was kissing and nibbling his way down Douglas’ neck. Douglas’ hands were travelling over every inch of Max’s back and neck as if he was blind and trying to see through touch.
Unable to resist, Max ran his hands straight down Douglas’ back and grabbed his ass with both hands. He pulled and if it were possible, their bodies meshed even closer. He could feel Douglas’ cock twitching against his stomach, and anticipation coiled hot and tight in his groin. He repositioned his head and they kissed mouth-to-mouth again. Teeth clashed this time and heads tilted.
Max shivered and groaned as Douglas snaked a hand in between their bodies and tweaked his nipple, rolling it between his fingers then rubbing it with his thumb. In return, he dipped his head and took Douglas’ nipples one by one in his mouth. He pretended that they were cocks; he sucked them, licked them, he rolled them around with his tongue, he ever so gently bit them. Hearing Douglas begin to gasp his name, he let go of the older man’s ass and leaned forwards, pushing Douglas none too gently. Lying on top of him, he returned to his task of nipple stimulation with ferocity.
“You like that, Doug?” he asked around one nipple. “You like that?” Douglas agreed hoarsely. Max bucked his body against Douglas’ and rejoiced in the older man’s growing erection that he could feel pressed up against him. Teasingly, he pulled himself up Douglas’ torso until his neck was level with his mouth and Douglas’ cock was level with his upper thighs. He sucked on Douglas’ neck as hard as he dared, brought one hand up to twist Douglas’ nipples, and began to shove his hips up and down, back and forth, squeezing them as tightly together as he could. Douglas’ cock slid in and out of his sensitive upper thighs; it felt fantastic.
“Fuck,” he said into Douglas’ hot, bruised neck, “fuck, I’d forgotten frot felt this good. Fuck!” Douglas merely grunted in reply, both of his hands were tight on Max’s hips, exhorting him to higher, faster movements. “Are you horny, Doug?” Max asked. He certainly was. He was so turned on that he was dizzy with it. At the same time, the familiar sense of power whirled intoxicatingly through his blood; he was doing this to this man. This total stranger, he was turning on for the third time in a row.
“Yes,” the older man grunted. Max grinned to himself, and gave in.
“Do you want me to suck you, Doug?”
Douglas squeezed his ass hard in reply.
“Tell me you want it!” Max demanded, biting down on Douglas’ neck.
“I want you to suck me!” Douglas said with gritted teeth.
“Happily.” Max wriggled down. The car door got in the way; now he was sitting with his ass against the door and bending as far forwards as possible, but it was fine. Everything was fine. With an ecstatic moan, he took Douglas in his mouth. He moved very quickly this time. “You taste … so … fucking good,” he exclaimed between bobs and frantic licks. Douglas wasn’t bothering with any more words, just grunting in time with his hips as he bucked up into Max’s face. Max repeated the humming trick from earlier and nearly choked as Douglas bucked up with his hips and pressed his head down with his hands at the same time.
Recovering, he sat back up, licking his lips and coughing once or twice. Douglas looked up at him with glassy eyes and an open mouth. “Put your legs on my shoulders,” Max said, and closed his eyes against a dizzying wave of lust triggered by the mere thought of what he was going to do.
It took a little bit of help and adjusting as Douglas wasn’t very flexible, but soon Max could see Douglas’ anus easily. He reached for Douglas’ straining cock to wet his fingers, but Douglas pushed his hands away.
“In the door pocket behind you,” he instructed. Max turned as best he could with Douglas’ ankles resting on his shoulders, and found a tube of lubricant and a couple of condoms. He squeezed a larger amount of lube than normal onto the first three fingers of his right hand; he didn’t know if Douglas was used to receiving.
“Tell me if it hurts,” he reminded Douglas, before sliding his middle finger in past the second knuckle. Douglas grunted. Max slid his index finger inside too, and began to push them back forth, fully in, almost fully out, then plunging back in again. Douglas cried Max’s name.
“What do you want, Doug?” Max panted. The twisted look of Douglas’ face, the sight of his hard red cock still right up against his flabby stomach, and most of all the incredible tightness around his fingers was making him more aroused than he could ever remember being before. His other hand found his cock; sensitivity worn off he was able to start pumping it. He did so with a will. “Tell me what you want, Doug.”
“Faster!” the older man panted, staring at the ceiling with wild eyes. “Faster, Max!”
Max obliged, moving his fingers not quite as fast as he could. In and out they went; the palm of his hand slapped against Douglas’ pale ass cheeks with every thrust. “Do you want more, Doug?”
Douglas groaned and gasped “Yes!” Max took his hand completely away in order to re-lube, then plunged three fingers in right to the hilt. Douglas made a loud, guttural choking sound and bucked upwards so violently that Max’s fingers were nearly dislodged.
“Was that it, Doug?” Max demanded. “Was it? Was it good?”
“Oh fuck, yes, Max, again!”
Max did it again and again. Douglas shouted something incoherent and started thrusting with his hips so much that almost his entire body left the seat each time.
Max was rapidly losing it. He had never seen somebody this uncontrollably turned on; it was forcing him to new heights of arousal. With difficulty, he managed to stop jerking his own cock. Trying to keep thrusting into Douglas as best he could, he reached for the tube of lube – it had fallen to the floor. Grabbing it before it rolled away under the front seat, he quickly squeezed a big glob onto his hand, then onto his cock. The smooth coldness of the lube made heat lance through him and his cock quiver warningly.
“What’re you doing, Max?” Douglas asked breathlessly, propping himself up on his elbows to see. Max pointed towards his now glistening erection. The crisis moment had passed; he no longer felt like a breath of wind would push him over the edge into orgasm. “Condom,” Douglas said, and there was a trace of steel in his tone that brooked no argument. Max seriously considered complaining that he was clean as a whistle and trusted that Douglas would have said anything otherwise before Max had put his cock in his mouth. However, reality reasserted itself in his lust-filled brain and he remembered that Douglas was of the era where the threat of AIDS loomed over all gay men like a persistent shadow.
Fair enough. Not worth the effort to argue. Not when it took him … so little time … to put one on. There! Another quick application of lube and it was back to all stations go.
“Ready?” he asked, wiggling the fingers of his penetrating hand. Douglas’ already rapid breathing hitched deliciously and his head flopped back to the car seat.
Max withdrew his fingers and repositioned Douglas’ legs more firmly onto his shoulders. Slowly but steadily, he pushed his lubricated cock in. The hot squeezing feeling of Douglas’ sphincter closing around the head of Max’s cock made him shudder and gasp again, even through the frustrating dullness of the rubber. His shaft slipped in fairly easily in comparison and before long he had a rhythm. A couple of different angles, and soon he had found Douglas’ prostate again.
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They were both sweating like crazy, and Max could hear the constant squelching, ripping sound of their hot, damp skin pulling away from the leather seats. You’re definitely in a car, that sound told him. And the sound of his and Douglas’ gasps and groans and curses told him yes, you’re definitely having sex with someone who isn’t your on-off boyfriend. In a car. In the dark. In the middle of a car park where anyone might park right next to them and see the car literally shaking. Oh god, the sheer forbidden thrill of it!
Again and again he jabbed at Douglas’ prostate. His head was spinning and spots were dancing in front of his eyes. Heat swirled and rippled down through his belly into the pit of his stomach, making his thighs quiver and his cock outright jerk; a second later he felt the older man’s anal muscles begin to spasm around him.
“Come on!” he yelled at the top of his voice. His orgasm hit him like a train and he sat bolt upright for a frozen, wonderful second before drooping down to lie on top of Doug, breathless and shaking. He rolled partway off the seat to let Douglas get a hand to himself, and smiled contentedly as the older man came too. “Fuck,” he whispered to himself.
“Exactly.” Douglas’ tired voice vibrated through his chest, tickling Max’s ear.
The traffic had cleared completely by the time that they had gathered their wits and cleaned up as best they could. They made good time to Glasgow – not even the bridge gave them much of a problem – and Douglas delivered Max to the hotel just as he had said.
Kai was very surprised to find that Max was so easy-going – usually after an argument of this magnitude the American would be bitchy with him for days.
It had a lot to do with a rectangular white business card with a certain man’s number on it, right at the bottom of Max’s bag, and the request scribbled on it.
Ring me.