Sweet Hitchhier

All characters are at least 18 years old..

***********

I saw him while I was pumping my gas, and he immediately got my attention. For one thing, we don't get all that many walking in my neck of the woods, because there's a whole lot of nothing around for miles and miles. Secondly, he was walking in one of our patented torrential rainstorms, and with the wind blowing and the lightning crackling, this was no night for a hike.

I called out to the shadowy figure, who was wearing a hooded sweatshirt, but he couldn't hear me because of the noise of the storm, and continued walking. A car whizzed by him, and as it did, he turned around and stuck his thumb out. The car kept going, either not seeing him or just not interested in taking a chance in picking up a stranger on a night like this.

After filling up, I hopped into the car and drove down the road. When I approached the young fellow, he turned and stuck out his thumb in a half-hearted manner, obviously not having had much luck so far. I slowed and pulled over about ten yards in front of him, and he ran up to me and opened the car door, looking in at me hopefully.

"Hop in before you drown," I said, and he got in eagerly.

"Thanks!" he said, apologizing for getting the seat wet.

"Not much you can do about that on a night like this," I said. "Where are you headed?"

"East."

East was a direction, not a destination, and after we talked for a while I found out that he had taken a bus out to Chicago with the money he had gotten for graduating high school. It had been a dream of his to go to see the Cubs at Wrigley Field, but the trip didn't work out very well.

The Cubs had lost, but what made the trip worse was the fact that he lost his wallet that first day, or had gotten it lifted by a pickpocket. Either way, the wallet had his bus ticket, his ticket for the next day's game, and most of his money in it, and he was stuck almost 600 miles from home. Two days later, he had managed to get about halfway.

"Why didn't you call your folks?" I asked.

"They would never let me forget it," he told me. "I have a habit of losing things and junk like that, and my mom didn't even want me to go because she was afraid I would do something stupid - like I did."

"Won't they be worried about you?"

"Nah. I wasn't supposed to be home until tomorrow anyway," he said.

"You'll never get there walking on roads like this."

"I don't even know where I am."

"You're about 40 miles from Buffalo," I told him. "I would take you there, but not in this weather. If you want to, you can stay with me tonight, and tomorrow morning I can drive you to Buffalo. My place is up ahead about two miles."

"I really should keep going," he said, but his voice lacked any real conviction, and the loud clap of thunder that followed the lightning made us both flinch.

"Up to you," I said, and as I neared the road my place was on, I pulled onto the shoulder of the road.

"I turn off here," I said, before making him an offer I hoped he couldn't refuse. "Tell you what. If you want, you can stay with me tonight, and tomorrow morning I'll drive you to Buffalo, and you can catch a bus home from there."

"But I don't have enough..."

"I'll buy you the ticket, and you can mail me the money when you can," I told him in my most reassuring voice. "I used to do stuff like that when I was your age, and I remember how my parents were. This way, they'll never have to know."

It took my young friend about a second to realize that he was getting an opportunity to get home without having to grovel to his parents, and he eagerly accepted my offer.

"That would be great, mister," he said grinning from ear to ear. "I will pay you back too. I promise."

"I'm sure you will," I said, turning onto my road.

"Well, it's really nice of you."

"One time when I was young, a man helped me out when I needed a hand, so I'm just passing it on. And please don't call me Mister. That makes me feel even older than I am. I'm Tom."

"I'm Brad."

I was certainly pleased to meet Brad, I thought to myself, a tad guilty about feeling like a wolf in the hen-house, but far too excited to care. The story about the man that helped me in my youth was true enough, and I planned to give young Brad the same kind of guidance that Mr. Scott had provided to me some 30 years ago.

*********

My place, a small cottage that I used as a summer retreat, had all of the basics that I needed. A large screen TV and DVD player were just about the only modern features the place had, and a couch and a reclining chair with a lamp summed up the living room furnishings. A small kitchenette with a mini washer/dryer combo, a bedroom with a bed and night table, and a tiny bathroom with a shower was all I had and all I needed.

I spent little time in the cottage, preferring to take hikes, go fishing, or just sit outside on the porch and enjoy the solitude. The two months I spent away from teaching were precious to me, and I enjoyed every moment. Still and all, there were times when I really wanted some company.

Especially when the company was somebody like Brad. When he peeled off his sweatshirt, I could see that he was a skinny little fellow; probably about 5'7" and 120 pounds dripping wet. The Cubs t-shirt underneath was wet too, as were his pants.

"You must be hungry," I said. "Why don't you go take a shower. I'll get your clothes cleaned and dried for you, and when you come out you can eat"

Brad didn't seem enthusiastic about that, but his clothes were so wet he didn't have much of a choice, and the mention of food got his attention. He went into the bathroom and undressed, and when he was through he opened the door as little as he could to pass the soggy mess to me.

I took the clothes and after Brad closed the door behind himself, I peeked through the crack in the door at him. Such a tiny little guy, I thought to myself as I enjoyed him walking to the shower. His hair was long and dirty blonde in color, and he had skinny legs and a cute butt with dimples, and I was hard almost immediately.

He leaned into the shower to adjust the spray, and I felt light-headed as I saw the muscles in his thighs and ass strain, hoping and praying for him to turn around.

Brad did turn around, just for a fleeting second, and when he did I nearly came in my pants when I caught a glimpse of his tiny flaccid dick wiggling beneath his little tuft of pubic hair. I forced myself to move away from the door - so tempted was I to run in and devour him. Patience, I told myself.

Two soggy dollar bills, some change, a comb and a ticket stub from Wrigley Field. Those were the contents of Brad's pockets, as I emptied them before throwing them into the washer along with his t-shirt, white crew socks, and his white cotton underwear. Thirty inch waist, I noted.

Setting the washer for a long cycle, I waited for the shower to turn off before getting it going, making us some soup and sandwiches. When the shower turned off, I started the wash and hustled into the bedroom to change into something more comfortable. Settling on white pajamas with black stripes, I glanced at my reflection in the mirror. My erection had not fully subsided, and the bulge was still very visible in the short pants.

I tried to calm myself down, not wanting to scare the fellow off, and went back to the kitchen. Brad was peeking out of the bathroom, looking around for me.

"Come on out Brad," I said. "It'll be a while until your clothes get done. I made us some dinner."

Brad looked even smaller with the over-sized towel wrapped around his waist. His scrawny chest was hairless, as was most of the rest of his body. Brad's legs had just a little fur down on the insides of his calves, and he had only tiny wisps of hair under his arms as well. I set the bowls and plates on the table and sat down quickly, because I was getting hard again taking inventory of my guest.

We ate heartily, and when the teapot whistled I remembered that I was planning on a little treat for us.

"Peppermint Patties!" I explained as I made the hot chocolate, pouring in generous amounts of the Schnapps that gave it some extra kick. "Warm us up after being out in that mess."

"Wow, this is really great Tom!" Brad said after sampling the drink, and he finished it off rapidly.

"They sneak up on you, though," I cautioned Brad, but I quickly got up and made us a couple more.

"Don't get decent TV reception up here," I said, leading Brad out to the living room after we finished eating, and herded him to the couch instead of the chair he had originally headed toward. "I do have some movies though. Feel like watching something?"

"Sure," Brad said, holding his mug in one hand and gripping the knot that held the towel around him with the other.

"Don't know what you like, but most young fellows like racy stuff, so you might like this," I said, putting the DVD in the machine and joining Brad on the compact couch.

"Great TV," Brad said as I turned it on and dimmed the light. "What's the name of the movie?"

"It's called "Bi The Way", I said, not mentioning the spelling of the first word in the title. "Have you seen it?"

I knew he hadn't seen it, and judging by the look on his face as the action started, he hadn't seen anything like it before. As the movie began, a girl and a boy were making out in her bedroom, and as they stripped down and began getting intimate, I glanced over at Brad. His eyes were bulging and his jaw had dropped as he sat hypnotized.

"Fellow as good looking as you must get all the girls," I suggested, as the boy in the film mounted the girl and began fucking her. "You've done that, right?"

"Once," Brad said, unable to turn away from the screen. "That girl there is really cute."

"Too bad we didn't find a girl hitchhiking on the way," I mused. "That could be us."

The 'us' in the movie included an older man, presumably the girl's father, who had caught the two humping and was now getting undressed and planning on joining the action.

"Is he going to screw her too - oh!" Brad said, watching the older man ignore the young lady and instead start to suck on the young guy's tool.

"You ever do anything like that - you know - with one of your friends?" I asked, putting my hand on Brad's thigh, softly stroking the faint down on his soft skin, and he shook his head no.

"Really?" I said, feigning surprise. "I thought young people were more adventurous these days. Never even thought about it?"

"Uh - my friend Todd and me - one time we were bored and jerked each other off," he confessed while still watching the movie.

"That must have been fun," I suggested.

"It was okay. Better than doing it yourself, I guess."

I heard Brad make a startled sound when the action on the screen grew a little more intense, as the older man had now mounted the younger fellow and was thrusting himself into his ass, while the younger man howled in pain and pleasure.

"I guess it's safe to say you've never done anything like that," I mused, and Brad slowly shook his head as he watched.

"That man's thing," Brad said. "It's so big. How did he..."

"This movie's making me horny, how about you?" I asked, and the movie was not the cause, as I squeezed Brad's thigh a little tighter. "If you want to get yourself off while you watch, you can. I do that myself quite often. Maybe you'd enjoy it more if I helped you, like your friend Todd did?"

Brad said nothing but was now looking at me instead of the screen, because my hand was moving up to the knot that held his towel together.

"Let's get this damp thing off of you," I said as the knot opened up and I pulled the ends of the towel apart. "Oh, you are excited, aren't you Brad?"

Brad's cock was hard - so hard it curled back toward his belly. His penis was very small; probably about 4 or 5 inches tops, and it was quite thin as well, but a more beautiful cock I could not remember ever seeing before.

The skin on the underside of his circumcised member was stretched as tautly as piano wire, and with his cock laying on his belly, his balls were fully exposed. A surprising large and hairless sac which cradled a pair of nice sized balls, it seemed misplaced beneath the modest-sized dick above it.

My hand came around his erect stem, cradling it softly in my grasp. Only the very tip of his acorn-shaped glans was visible when I held his dick in my fist, and I lightly grazed the tip of it which my thumb. A tiny pearl of pre-cum emerged from this gentle rubbing, and Brad made a tiny squeaking sound as I wiped it off.

"You like me holding your cock?" I asked him, but Brad said nothing and just looked down at what I was doing.

I leaned over and kissed his nipple, licking the tiny nub while starting to stroke his dick. Brad was moving his hips, attempting to make the stroking faster, but I maintained the same slow pressure and speed.

"Here," I said, straightening up on the couch and directing Brad's hand down to my pajamas.

Brad's eyes bulged wide when his hand came in contact with my cock, and he looked down at the obscene bulge that his hand was placed on top of.

"Why don't you take mine out for me," I suggested softly in Brad's ear, popping open the snaps of my pajamas to make it easier for him, and eventually had to put his hand back on my cock myself, as he seemed frozen with fear at the thought.

I shifted my hips around and tried to wriggle around to get my pajamas down far enough, and when my cock sprang free, I reveled in the look on Brad's face when he saw what he was holding. It was either shock or fear that Brad was experiencing, and I had to hold his hand down before he pulled it away.

"It's okay Brad - it's okay," I reassured him, as his mouth opened and he let out an almost silent cry as he stared at what was in his grip. "Just hold it for me."

I began moving my hips while Brad gripped my cock, and eventually his hand started moving as well, until his face contorted and he cried out.

I glanced down just in time, as Brad's dick began spitting out cum like a geyser. Milky white gobs of cum shot in the air and landed on his stomach, chest and shoulders, and didn't stop until he had spurted out more than a dozen wads of semen.

I kept pulling on his dick until he became limp again, and as the rest of his body relaxed as well, I tongued the semen off of his chest and stomach. His breathing had returned to normal, and he looked at me with a dazed expression.

Unbuttoning my pajama top and shedding that as well as the bottoms, I leaned back on the couch and took Brad's hand again, giving him a look that I hoped gave him a clue.

He seemed afraid to touch my cock, and while part of that may have been due to his not being used to being with a man, I suspect most of his trepidation stemmed from my cock, which was easily twice the size of his own, in both length and girth.

When his hand finally gripped my cock near the base, I saw that his fingers were not able to fully get around it. With timid motions, his hand began sliding up and down my semi-turgid staff.

"That's it, Brad," I said as he began stroking a little faster. "Here - maybe this will help."

I reached down into the space between the cushions and found the tube of lube that I kept there, and squirted a little into my palm before working it into my cock.

Brad's hand slid up and down faster and easier then, and I groaned as I became fully erect.

"If you want - use both hands," I suggested, and Brad knelt next to me and put his other hand on my cock, holding me like a baseball bat as she began pumping it.

The movie played on, but Brad had completely forgotten about it, and instead was concentrating on my cock, working his hlick hands up and down the entire length of it.

I put my hand on Brad's hip, helping his balance while he really got into his work, now milking my cock with enthusiasm. My hand went down from his hips and to his balls, which were dangling low and loose.

"You like your balls played with like that?" I asked Brad, while I kneaded his sac roughly, and he nodded. "You've got a beautiful pair on you."

Brad's eyes got a glazed look on them while I churned his nuts in my palm, and I thought this might be a good time to move the action elsewhere.

"Why don't we go and get more comfortable."

***********

I took Brad into the bedroom, pulling down the sheets and turning on the little light on the side of the bed. Brad looked more scared now than he did before, staring at my greased erection which swayed like a metronome when I moved.

"I don't know - I don't know how to do this," he finally said.

"There's nothing to know," I told him as I sat on the edge of the bed, trying to minimize the outrageous differences in our size. I was easily a half foot taller than Brad, as well as outweighing him by 100 pounds, and he seemed very intimidated by me. My being as hairy as a bear was probably no help either, and for a second I was afraid he was going to bolt on me, clothes or no clothes.

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to do," I assured him, reaching out my hand to him.

"Are you going to do what that man in the movie did to the other guy?" he asked, clearly terrified at the prospect of his bottom being penetrated by me, but that was not something I had planned on doing to Brad, no matter how tempting a thought it may have been.

"No, Brad," I told him. "I promise."

Brad looked at my hand, unsure as what to do, and then came closer to me and reached out. As he moved toward me I slowly went down to my knees before him. Cupping his butt cheeks in my hands, my mouth enveloped his limp stem.

I sucked on his dick with as much intensity and passion that I could muster while my hands kneaded his tight ass. I felt his dick start to show some life, and I moved my hands down the backs of his thighs and all the way down to his ankles before sliding them back upwards through the fine hairs on his calves.

He was hard again by the time my hands came back up to his groin, and I held his stiff dick out of the way so I could suck on his nuts a little. Brad was squirming and fidgeting under this oral assault, and when I looked up at him through the little tuft of his pubic hair my face was buried in, he seemed to have lost his desire to leave.

"Do you want me to do that to you?" he asked, and while I wanted that a whole lot, I shook my head.

"Only if you want to."

We climbed onto the bed, and Brad knelt next to me, taking hold of my cock. He went back to jerking me off, using both hands again, and I smiled.

"That feels nice," I said. "Like you said, it's way better than doing it yourself."

Brad smiled a nervous smile, and I rubbed his thigh as he ran his hands up and down the length of the shaft and over the ridge of the glans.

"My friend Todd's dick is bigger than mine too," Brad said. "Not this big though. Yours is scary big - like the man in the movie."

"But there's nothing to really be scared of, is there Brad?"

"No," he admitted. "Wish my dick was like yours though. Mine is so little I was ashamed when you first saw it."

"Don't you ever think that way. You have the most beautiful cock I've ever seen," I told him. "Just looking at you makes me want to cum."

And as I watched his arching stem bobbing up and down, I felt my nuts tingle as my orgasm rose up inside of me. While my ejaculation lacked the intensity and volume of Brad's, I'm sure it felt just as great as his did. He milked me until I went limp, and when he finally stopped, I eased him down and rolled on top of him.

Brad's cock was hard when I wrapped my lips around it, and it stayed hard as I brought him to the brink of orgasm countless times. Each time drove him more crazy than the one before, and when I finally let him cum after teasing him for the longest time, his whole body shivered from the force of his orgasm. I siphoned every drop I could from him, churning his nuts with my hand as he shot his load down my throat.