Giving and Getting a Ride

I had been on the road for some time. Once again, on my way from point A, via unspecified hotel, to point B. As the CEO of a firm I had to do a lot of travelling. Usually by plane, but every now and then, especially when I had several meetings in more or less the same area, I would rent a car and get moving – which was fine, as it gave me some time on my own. Although I loved my wife and children very much, it is sometimes good to be on one's own. All I needed to think of was me myself and I. And although I hated to admit it, the occasional encounters with women was fluid for life. I loved how I still was able to seduce and fuck the girls, and then leave in the morning without a note. It made me feel younger than my 38 years. Which, let it be known, hardly was visible. Not very, anyway. I put a lot of pride and effort into looking good. I worked out a lot, and dressed and drove like a million dollars. Which I, come to think of it, was, anyway. What a coincidence.

So, here I was, out on my own again. Only this time, instead of touring the US of A, I had a string of meetings to attend to in Europe. Good ol' Europe, with the liberated women I would never chance to meet again. But as the roads in Europe are numerous and signed in all sorts of strange languages, it didn't take long before I has strayed off the mail road, and was driving some back road. For the first hour, it was okay, as I wasn't in any real hurry – my next meeting was scheduled for the next day. But then I started getting anxious about getting where I was supposed to at all. The signs were getting scarcer, so I eventually made my mind up to stop and ask for directions. And voila, there he was, a man standing by the road. Closing in on him, I could see that he was actually trying to get a ride.

"A hitchhiker." I mumbled to myself. Maybe he could direct me to a decent hotel. And offer some company, instead of the less-than-comprehensible blabbering radio stations. I slowed down. Without waiting for me to okay him, he just opened the front door and got in next to me. As he slid into the seat, his body scent filled the car and my nostrils. A strong, sweet, masculine odour. A pleasant mix between fresh perspiration and masculine after shave. With a brilliant pearly white smile, he held out his hand and said his name.

"Marco!"

I shook his hand, as I gave him a closer look. Younger guy, 20-something. Dark complexion and dark wavy hair that fell over his brown eyes. I assumed he might be Spanish, but he was darker than most other Spaniards I had met. He appeared to be a bit shorter than me, perhaps 5'8, compared to my 6'2. But whatever his height, he was well built. Maybe he was a laborer, or maybe he worked out several days a week. Whatever the recipe, he sported some strong arms and broad shoulders. His shorts didn't conceal a muscular ass and some incredibly muscled thighs and calves. I was impressed. I worked out a lot myself, but this young man was a piece of work. I explained my predicament to Marco. He gave another of his beautiful smiles, patted me on my thigh, and assured me he would get me wherever I wanted. His said this with a wink I assumed was some Southern European way of signaling "All ok" although the pat had seemed to linger for a second longer than...hetero.

Oh heck, what did I know. It was several days since my last fuck, I had could feel the sexual tension building. I started asking him some questions about him hitch-hiking, how come he was still doing it. After all, there were some lunatics out there! He smiled.

"Well, you could be one, too!"

"Relax, man. I am not that kind of guy?"

He raised an eyebrow.

"Really? What if you are? Maybe I'm in for a surprise..."

I laughed, a bit uncertain what he was suggesting. Surprise? I asked him if it was hard getting a ride, to which he mentioned something about somebody usually getting a ride, with him in the car. Being somewhat preoccupied with the driving, I asked him how come. He shrugged.

"I have this MD, you see. It seems to get me where I want. However, my last ride didn't want a ride. So I left."

"MD?" I said questioningly. He smiled. Not the kind of smile that comes of an innocent joke, but a smile from a position of power.

"MD. As in Magical dick."

I nodded.

"I see. And the girls can't resist it?"

"Girls... guys... whoever. That last one was a guy. I think he was afraid."

My heart skipped a beat.

"What do you mean – guys?" I said, before thinking.

"You know...guys. Boys. Men. People like you and me."

"Eh, like in...homosexuals?"

He laughed.

"Yeah, probably some of them. I don't really care. If I feel horny and some attractive person wants to serve me, I am not the one to deny them the pleasure. And believe me, quite a lot of people want me. Or rather, want me to do them. I am no present for them to take." he said, and gave me another of his winks.

I was dumfounded, and had no idea what to say. Fortunately, or should I say – unfortunately – he kept the conversation rolling.

"Sometimes, they don't notice. Maybe they are totally uninterested. But most of them, once they get a look at it..."

He patted his crotch.

"They just seem to want it. Like yesterday, I got a ride with this couple. Married people. The woman – the wife, was pregnant, and wanted to sleep, so she got a back seat. Her husband seemed ok for the first miles. Then I started noticing how he kept glancing at my crotch."

As he said this, I caught myself doing the exact same thing. I have no idea why I did it. I didn't want to, especially considering the story he was telling. But even worse, when I quickly looked at him, I could see how he had seen me looking. I swallowed, and swore to keep my eyes on the road for the remainder of the drive.

"So after this had gone on for a while, I simply asked him if he wanted to hold it. And he did." Marco said matter of factly.

"Got it out of my pants. While he was still driving. To begin with, he seemed at a loss bout what to do with it."

He laughed. I had no idea why. I only knew that his story was starting to turn me on. Big time.

"Before twenty minutes had passed, however, he had pulled over and was sucking it."

Once again, he patted his cock. And once again, I glanced quickly. I could see the contours through the denim of his shorts. Why was I doing it? Why was I looking at where I knew his cock was, as if hoping to see the scene from yesterday? And why the fuck was I getting turned on? I was a ladies man, I fucked the girls in any position known to man. I made the women scream in delight when I pounded them, either in their cunts or in their asses. Maybe I was still jet lagged. And horny as hell. I hoped Marco was done telling his story, but he wasn't.

"He got his load as his wife started stirring in the back. I can tell you, he was in some hurry to swallow my juice before he could start conversing with his wife! I left the car there. I think his wife might have suspected something was fishy, she gave me a funny look as I walked past the car. Sexy broad, I would have loved to do her some other time. Anyway – "

He jawned.

"I got blowed. Not expertly, but it was ok. And a bit of a turn on with him in his army uniform and all."

He went quiet. I stayed quiet, out of fear of revealing my quivering voice. Hell, I had no idea what it would sound like by now. My dick was raging hard, and I was just hoping it wasn't too visible to Marco. Hopefully, my dark trousers and seat belt concealed it together with my jacket. I was hoping he would change the subject, but he kept on.

"I wasn't actually aware I had a MD before I was about 16. The dad of my best friend showed me. Being young and all, I didn't last long. But again, being young and all, I was ready again in no time at all."

He laughed at this, as though a joke I was able to identify with.

"Man, he was crying like a baby afterwards. Kept saying he was sorry, he didn't mean to and all. I had no idea what he was on about. I had just blown down his throat, and was happy as shit."

Ok. I did definitely not want the rest of this story. By now, I was having a hard time concentrating on the traffic.

"He was still crying half an hour later, but more from happiness, I guess, as I was fucking his ass. That was some sight, looking down at my dick ramming in and out of his muscled, white, ass. I would never have believed it, not even the same morning. His trousers around his feet, humping against my thrusts. Man, it was hot. And his wife and son upstairs, knowing nothing!"

Marco laughed again. So self-assure. Sharing

this moment as it was... any moment. Neither of usa sid anything for a moment. Me least of all. I was totally bewildered that his bragging was turning me on. Why the hell was my cock bobbing up and down, longing for being set free? Why was I even considering what it might feel like to hold his dick? I was sure it was thick and warm...pulsating. Getting ready. Fuck. I was losing it.

Finally he spoke.

"So how about you? You ready for the MD?"

I almost coughed.

"Ex-cuse me?" I said in what I hoped would seem as a genuinely surprised tone. I hated to admit it, but it was just what I had been thinking. He snorted, and turned his head towards me.

"Come on. You're curious about this cock of mine. What is it about it that makes straight guys go down on it? Admit it."

He rubbed my thigh. I was so hard I almost came there and then. But no way this young guy was making me touch his cock. No way. I swallowed hard.

"Er, thanks for the offer, Marco, but I'm not that kind of guy."

I could hear it myself. I did not sound convincing. Not one bit. Oh my God, how many times had he heard guys like me say these words? He sighed.

"Always the denial. You want to look at it? Or are you afraid looking might turn you into a faggot?"

"Why would I be afraid of that?"

I almost shouted. Why did I shout?

"I have seen a lot of cocks in my life, and they have never turned me on."

"Well, you never saw this one. I think you are frightened over what seeing it might to do you."

"As what?" I said bravely.

"Make you crave something you thought you could do without. Turn you around. Make you realize giving a real man is something you want to do, and still love your woman. Make you crave cock as much as you lust for cunt, and feeling even happier."

"That is ridiculous."

I meant it. I really did. It sounded ridiculous that the mere sight of another cock should have any effect on me. But the stories he had been telling... they did something to me. Then things happened without me noticing how and when. My hand was on his crotch. I looked twice. Was it really mine? What was it doing there? It was opening his fly, his belt, pulling down his briefs. And all the time, I was still driving the car. But now I was pulling over. Why was I pulling over? My face was suddenly in his lap. I was frantically freeing myself from the seat belt, and pulling out his cock. Heavy and warm. God, it was large and hard. As my own, only this wasn't my own. I looked at it, almost mesmerized. One hand was carressing his balls, the other stroking his cock. Slowly, as if I was afraid the moment might pass if I was too eager. I looked up at his eyes. They were twinkling, as if saying "I knew you would". My mind was full of images of Marco fucking men. Fucking his best friend's father. His big, dark, cock, pumping in and out, with the older man cying in pain and shame and desire. Having the officer suck him while his wife was in the back seat, knowing nothing. And new images started coming, things Marco hadn't told me. A sailor being manhandled over a ship's railing, his white uniform trousers laying around his feet, his stiff cock dancing in midair as his ass was being given a royal fuck. Then I saw a pale skinned youth looking at him, begging, to please let him suck him, that he had sent his girlfriend off, and was his for the entire night. Where were this images coming from? It struck me that the men all had a paler complexion than he did. Was he getting off, seeing those white males on their knees, getting their mouths and asses stuffed? Were they really, or was that my imagination making it up? And then he was in my mouth. He filled my mouth, and I had to work hard to get in all I could. Because I wanted it all. I gagged. He rock hard, stiff, manmeat was filling it, denying me oxygen. But I didn't care. I was sucking him like there was no tomorrow. It got black around me, there was nothing else here but Marco, his cock, and me. I could no longer care for my hotel and appointments and my plan of finding a girl to fuck. I wanted this cock. I wanted to see it come. And after that I had no idea what I wanted. Only that I knew something had happened, and that the rest of my trip in Europe would not be as I had intended.

Sequel to follow...