Date: Tue, 11 Sep 2007 17:45:34 -0700 (PDT)
From: laeauthor author <laeauthornow@sbcglobal.net>
Subject: I can't breathe/part four/ Pot holes are made for fucking

As usual, if it is unlawful for you to read this material where you live or
you are not eighteen please leave.  This story is intended for adults.

All suggestions or criticism can be submitted at
laeauthornow@sbcglobal.net.  Hope to hear from you.  Thanks for reading.


Pot Holes are for Fucking
By: L. A. Emerich

	I gazed in the passenger side mirror at my sleek Cadillac as we
pulled away from my house.  We had decided to drive Mark's Monte Carlo
instead.  Though I regretted the loss of its luxury, the practicalities of
using Mark's car outweighed any reluctance I felt.  The Monte was a sexy,
muscle car.  It emulated its owner to a tee.  Besides, we could smoke in it
and look good doing it.  In Key West, I was sure that the car would be
almost as big a hit as Mark.
	I reached over and rubbed the scruff of Mark's neck as we barreled
to the nearby interstate.  Contact with Mark's body caused me to remember
the night before.  He had stayed at my house and I had finally gotten to
host in style.  I made a dinner to remember; Coquilles St. Jacques, green
salad, Salmon Muniere, and a split of Veuve Cliquot to wash it down.  Then
we had actually made love in a real bed.  I say made love, because it
wasn't just fucking.  We didn't use endearments like stud or sexy
motherfucker.  I was Allan and he was Mark.  It was slow, passionate, and
heartfelt by both of us.
	Our whirlwind passion caused us both a vast amount of angst.  But,
when it feels right it feels right.  There was no arguing with facts.
Between bouts of our incredibly inflamed desire for one another, we had
spoken of our concerns.  To my disbelief, Mark seemed to be more
disconcerted than I was.  He poured his heart out to me.  He was
understandably trepidacious.  Mark had an ex-wife and a past littered with
tenuous relationships, both gay and straight.  Though he talked a good game
of sexual openess, any thought of having a commited relationship with
another man was somewhat alien to him.  I too, was wary.  My romantic
experiences had never included being part of a larger whole.  For me, it
wasn't the homosexual label that bothered me.  It was the loss of perceived
freedom to make decisions without affecting anyone else.  Speaking to each
other about the way we felt served to make us understand where we stood.
Though we were leary, our unbridled lust for one another seemed to cause
any concern to pale.  I was hot for Mark and he was hot for me.  It
appeared that we had finally found the equilibrium that was the seesaw of
our attraction for one another.
	I had spent the interceding two weeks preparing a huge amount of
work for my staff to deal with.  The takeover of the cleaners was in the
end stage and prospecting for new acquisitions was in full swing.  Cindy,
my secretary, was overwhelmed at the prospect of my immenent departure.
	"What the Hell?"  She had exploded when I had informed her of my
plans.  "I guess you're expecting miracles here amongst the frozen chosen
while you bask in the sun."
	"I'm not asking for miracles, just thaw me out a couple of
prospects.  I'll be back in a week."  I assured her.
	"I hope your dick melts off."  She wished.
	"May your nipples freeze to your underwire."  I responded, using
the familiar patois of our close working relationship.  Cindy was
comfortable with my gayness.  I was comfortable with her overpowering
sensuality.  If I were interested, I was certain that we could have rocked
each other's world.  But alas, my head was turned by another.
	I watched the piles of dirty snow roll by the window as I lit a
smoke.
	"When did Jesse and the boys leave?"  I asked, cracking my window
by way of the antiquated crank.
	"He said they were leaving this morning.  They should already be
there by the time we arrive."  Mark explained, digging in my crotch for my
lighter.
	"Hey, watch it."  I warned him.  "It may not be hot enough to light
a cigarette, but it's still smokin'."  Mark laughed as he lit his smoke.  I
watched as he sexily exhaled.  Visions of blowing his hard cock while
driving down the highway flitted through my brain.  I wondered if my
ruminations would come to fruition.
	"How about some tunes?"  Mark asked, pulling me from my horny
daydream.
	"Sounds good, something hard and driving."  I requested,
substituting my choice of music for the wandering of my bawdy imagination.
Mark played with the after-market CD player.
	"This should do it."  He offered, settling on a selection.  The
sounds of War Pigs from the booming speakers engulfed us as we
instinctively started to bob our heads with its irresistable beat.  I
closed my eyes and basked in the enjoyment of our shared adventure.  My
heart was free and my mind was a blank slate.  Frivolous relaxation had
become alien to me since my rise in the corporate world.  It felt good to
lose myself in the sound of song.
	Hours went by.
	Our trip was like watching the retreat of the last ice age.  Dirty
piles of snow gave way to solitary stalks of unmowed grass, which gave way
to hillocks interspersed with receding fingers of glistening ice.  The edge
of the ice fingers sparkled as they thawed in the growing warmth of more
southernly climes.  Around the Kentucky/Tennessee border, snow gave way to
plain dead vegetation awaiting the breath of spring that the air hinted.  I
spelled Mark and drove on until the red clay of Georgia finally intimated
the first gasp of spring.
	"Smell that?"  I asked, rolling down my window and letting the
heavy night air swirl through the car.  The fecund smell of the earth lay
testament to the burgeoning promise of another spin around nature's
seasonal dial.
	"I always think it smells like what a dead body must smell like."
Mark replied.
	"That's the smell of the death of winter."  I asserted.  "It makes
me horny."
	"Hold on.  You may need the stamina."  Mark laughed, rubbing my
leg.  I smiled, enjoying the intimacy that we shared.  I thought of how the
progression of our relationship was somewhat similar to the march of the
seasons, born of the waste of winter, blooming in the era of the coming
spring.  Perhaps, I wax too prosaic.  But, the proof of us together was
more monumental than mere mortals could comprehend.
	"Stamina I got.  A hot mouth around my cock, I don't."  I declared,
unzipping my fly.  I pulled my dick from the constrained environment of my
jeans and jacked it for Mark's enjoyment.  He immediately engulfed my
rampant prick into his hot mouth and proceeded to give me the best head on
four wheels.  I glowed as we crossed the Florida border with my cock in
Mark's velvety throat.
	Mark took over again just south of Jacksonville.  The loss of my
load made me sleepy and the thought of returning the favor was distracting.
I blew Mark until we reached the outskirts of Orlando.
	"I knew that cumming to Disney World was a dream destination, but I
never thought I would get there this way."  Mark quipped as I licked the
remains of his load from my sore lips.  I swallowed and lay back, enjoying
the vibration of the road.
	"Drive on, Goofy.  I'm going to take a nap."  I said, loving the
feeling of Mark's cum in my belly.
	I slept for a few hours, as Mark had done before me.  I awoke as
the wind inside the car became a maelstrom.  Mark had the window down,
letting the warm night air blow away some of the travel funk.  I yawned and
stretched my sore body.  The factory seats were like something out of the
Marquis de Sade museum.
	"Where are we?"  I asked, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
	"Just north of Miami.  You ready to take over?"  Mark asked,
looking over at my bleery facade.  I could see that his eyes were red and
could hear the rasp of too many cigarettes in his voice.
	"Sure, how about a rest stop and a cup of coffee?"  I asked, waking
up completely.  Mark pulled over at the next exit and found an all-night
convenience store.  I exited the car, regretting the fact that it was not
my overly comfy Caddy.  From the way Mark moved, I was sure that he would
have agreed.  The things we do for vanity.
	"I figure about another five hours should put us there."  Mark
said, gazing at his watch.
	"You'd think we would be at the equator by now."  I joked,
following Mark into the store.  I got my coffee and got back into the car.
Mark got into the backseat and blew me a kiss.  I blew one back and settled
in for the last leg of our journey.  After passing through Miami and its
southern suburbs, I could see the rising sun off to my left.  My adrenaline
was exacerbated by the caffeine I was ingesting.  By the time we started
hitting the Keys, I was wide awake and working on my farmer's tan from the
driver's side window.  I always find it interesting how a palm tree can
mesmerize snow birds like me.  The wispy fronds shaking in a slight breeze
is enough to cause the circaddian rhythm of the seasons to be completely
sublimated to their existence, no matter the time of year.  They are a
harbinger of never-ending summer to me.  The attitude of summer and good
times overtook me instantly.  I was up for anything.
	As the sign for Key West passed by, I woke Mark.  He groaned and
performed the mini yoga of one who had slept badly.  It was full morning as
he kissed the back of my head and asked where we were.  I informed him that
we were almost there.  He pulled the directions to Granny and Pops' house
from his pocket and acted as navigator until we pulled up in front of a
well landscaped bungalow of pastel green.
	"363 Nantucket, this must be the place."  Mark offered.  I smiled
to myself as the lines from a naughty limerick ran through my mind.  The
small front yard held flowering hibiscus bushes that bloomed lushly in the
light morning air.  Two royal palms shaded the porch that ran the entire
length of the front of the house, then wrapped around it.  A small cupola
of an onion-shaped design anchored the turn.  The shingles of the roof held
an intricate design that added to the charm of the well kept abode.  The
backdrop of the bungalow was a limitless blue sky with wispy cirrus clouds
blowing across it.  Surely, the beach was near.  A Jeep Cherokee was parked
in the crushed shell driveway.
	"Looks like they made it."  I said, walking up a curvy flagstone
walk to the porch.  Mark followed me taking in the charming scene.  Rattan
furniture and reed mats inhabited the porch, creating a cozy scene hidden
by vines of morning glories that were fully open to the salty breeze.
	"Nice place.  I hope Jesse's Grandparents know what they are
doing."  Mark observed, remarking on the tranquil scene.  I had to agree.
This was surely nicer than I had expected from a vacation home.  I pushed
the door bell, hearing the familiar windsor chimes as we waited for an
answer.
	"Hey Guys, what's up?"  Jesse greeted, holding the door open.
"Come on in, the party's on."  I gazed at Jesse.  He was all that I had
remembered and more.  He wore the uniform of the day: knee-length blue
trunks hanging on by the rise of his succulent ass and skin for days.  The
blue of his apparel highlighted the paleness of his skin.  I thought of
what the hard sun would do to that skin, it was secondary to what I wanted
to do to it.  We entered the coolness of the bungalow.  The manicured
outside continued to make the inside truly relaxed and beautiful.  The
foyer was flanked by a rather formal living room with a flagstone
fireplace.  On the other side of the hall, an obviously toned down dining
room held furniture of wicker and a table of glass.
	We walked into the shadowed home behind our host.
	"We'll get your things later.  The party's in the back."  Jesse
instructed, closing the door behind us.  We followed that perfect college
ass through the home to a large, glass-walled room.  It was obviously the
gathering place for the house.  Plants and tastefully upholstered furniture
lent to the tropical theme that abounded.  In the room, sat two more
college studs.
	"Hey guys, these are the dudes I was telling you about."  Jesse
said, introducing Mark and I to Jake and Tom.  They stood and greeted us
with handshakes and welcomes.  I was taken aback by those two specimens of
young manhood.
	Tom stood about six foot, Mark's height.  His black hair framed a
face right out of a Caravaggio painting.  His moist, pronounced lips were
held in a pout and his olive skin bespoke an italian ethnicity.  No
evidence of a beard marred the beautiful pallet that was the face.  His
build rivaled Mark's, but younger.  This kid was built by the gods.  His
thick, supple neck ended between two seriously built shoulders.  Manificent
pectorals sprung from his chest which overshadowed a perfect torso,
complete with chiseled abs.  His legs were as hairy as his upper body was
smooth.  All in all, a specimen of perfection.  I watched the bulge of his
biceps as he pumped my arm in greeting.  I was hypnotized by his azure blue
eyes and welcoming smile.  Tom let my hand fall and gave me the chance to
check out Jake.
	I considered Jesse and I tall, but Jake towered over us by at least
four inches.  I felt his huge hand take mine as I gazed up into his rustic
face.  Jake was not a classic beauty, his hair was red-red, his face was
attractive and freckled.  On his chin, a serious goatee belied his age.
His green eyes hinted at the irishness of his ancestors.  His tall body was
not defined, but it showed an obvious power in its massiveness.
	"We were just going to fire one up.  Sit down."  Jesse informed us.
	"I think I'll stand.  I got a serious case of road butt."  I joked.
They all laughed at me as Jesse lit a joint.  We passed the joint around.
I caught Mark's eye and he smiled a big shit-eating grin.  I knew what he
was thinking, 'so many men and so little time'.
	"We're going down to the beach after this joint, do you wanna
come?"  Jake asked, passing the joint.
	"I think I want a shower first and then something to eat."  Mark
answered.  "How 'bout you?"  I assured him that a shower was first, before
any beach.
	"Suit yourself."  Jesse interjected.  "Here's a key for everyone."
Jesse took a key for each of us from an envelope.  "There's some food in
the fridge, but we'll need to get more later."
	"Where do we sleep?"  I asked.
	"You and Mark can have the back bedroom, we are in the master."
Jesse smiled.  "But, anything goes as to where you sleep."  From the boys'
reactions, Jesse had laid all the cards on the table.
	With the help of the younger generation, Mark and I unloaded the
car.  For a week of partying and sex, we had brought a large amount of
stuff.  Jesse showed us to our room and left us to unpack.  He, Jake, and
Tom told us goodbye and departed for the closest sand
	A quick shower together over, sans sex, Mark and I luxuriated on
the king size bed.  White wicker furniture set the relaxed theme of our
room.
	"Let's smoke one and join the crowd."  Mark suggested.
	"Sounds like a plan."  I offered.  Though I had thought of a nap
first, going to the beach stoned seemed an excellent idea.
	"Can you believe those two?"  I asked, taking the lit joint from
Mark.
	"I know.  Do you think we'll get any sleep?"  Mark asked, exhaling.
	"Who gives a fuck?"  I interjected.  "We can sleep when we get
home."
	"I hoped you would feel that way."  Mark said, reaching into his
suitcase.  He pulled a brown bottle from inside.  "This should keep us
awake."
	I would have to be a complete idiot to think that it was not
cocaine.  I know that I mentioned that I did not do drugs as a rule, but
when in Rome.  As we passed the joint back and forth, Mark laid out
prodigious lines for us.  I snorted one and then let Mark do his.  We
repeated this until the lines were gone and Mark had licked up the remains
with a spit-dampened finger.
	"MMMhhh."  I moaned as I lay back on the more than comfortable
pillows of the bed.  "I feel like I'm flying in my own skin."  I let the
numbing effect of the drug take hold of my consciousness.  Mark lit a
cigarette and passed it to me.  Then he lit one for himself.  There is
something very sexy when the one you love performs this ritual (Did I say
love?  Yes, I did.  I could admit it to myself, but that's as far as I
got).  We lay for some time, enjoying the the instant buzz and the
cigarette.
	"I don't think we should tell them about the flake."  Mark said,
interrupting my freefall into oblivion.
	"Your secret's safe with me."  I assured him, finishing my
cigarette.  "That means more for the elders."  I am not a greedy person,
but the idea of three sexy college studs hopped up on coke was enough to
make my statement germane.
	"Besides, the viagra should stand in good stead if needed."  Mark
laughed.  I looked at him in amazement.  We had never needed anything like
viagra.
	"How did you get viagra?"  I asked, a little nonplussed at its
necessity.
	"Do you remember Garry Morgan from school?  He's a doctor now.  I
told him about the trip and he gave me a script for some."  Mark assured
me.  I did remember Gary.  He had put the moves on me one night at band
camp, but I didn't bite.  That fact had been a recurring regret for many
years.
	"I don't think we'll need it for this crowd."  I offered, thinking
of an unrequieted seduction.  "I bet the boys get it up when the wind
blows."
	"You're probably right.  But, it never hurts to be prepared."  Mark
said, putting out his smoke.  "Let's go, I feel the sun calling my name."
	I laughed as Mark put on his swimsuit.  They were red speedos.  The
reason that I laughed is that they were identical to my blue ones save the
color.
	"I guess we had the same idea."  I laughed, pointing at his barely
concealed equipment.
	"I got these just for you."  Mark stated, batting his eyelashes at
me.
	"Ditto."  I said, packing my own pouch and remembering our wish for
seeing one another in them.
	I watched Mark's sexy butt as he walked through the back of the
house and out the french door.  I wished that frozen-aisle hag could see
him now.  The brightness of the outside was stunning.  Mark and I walked
from the house and over a slight rise to see the splendor of the white sand
and irridescent water.  Due to my drugged state, I was glad that I had
remembered my sun glasses.
	The beach was packed with the bodies of gleaming college students
worshiping the sun and each other.  Mark nodded to a nearby kiosk that was
certainly there for those who chose not to piss in the water.  More
nefarious reasons awaited.
	"You want a bump?"  He asked.
	"Sure."  I answered, following Mark into the facility.  The
coolness of the shaded interior was refreshing after the intensity of the
glaring sun.  The constant breeze from the tradewinds made the spot
bearable.  The inside of the small hut held a smell of weed.  Not a trace,
as if from the outside, but a fully stoked miasma of marijuana.  The
underlying hint of stale piss and unknown, indeterminate smells was
overwhelmed.  Mark selected a stall near the middle of the room.  He
removed the bottle from his scanty trunks and laid lines for our partaking.
From the smell of pot, it was certain that we were safe.
	I latched the door behind us as Mark laid lines on the top of the
commode's tank.  I noticed that we were not alone.  On both sides, bare
feet were in evidence.  Drugged as I was, I did not immediately notice that
there were holes in the walls on each side of the stall.
	We snorted our pick-me-up and gazed into one another's eyes.  There
was no consensual agreement, there was no mutual decision, as we gravitated
to each other's mouth.  I licked Mark's pouty lips and drove my tongue deep
into the recesses of his oral cave.  He reciprocated with an eagerness that
was overwhelming.
	I squeezed Mark's skimpily clad ass.  My hands massaged his mounds
and got into our kiss.  Out of no where, I heard a low whistle.  I looked
over Mark's shoulder to see a hard dick sticking through the hole in the
stall.  Intrigued, I broke our kiss and motioned to the cock.  Mark looked
down and smiled.  He put out his hand and started to jack it while I
watched, mesmerized.  The dick fucked itself into Mark's palm in rhythm
with his manipulations.
	"Go ahead."  Mark whispered into my ear.  I didn't need any more
encouragement.  I dropped to my knees and licked the head.  The cock
obviously belonged to a young man.  Though veiny, the veins had not had the
time to make it truly gnarly.  It was uncut and about six inches of fat boy
cock.  I ran my tongue over the meaty glans and down the fleshy shaft.  I
could hear the sigh of its owner as I lifted the pole to my mouth.  I
engulfed the turgid length until my nose rested in his sandy pubes.  The
drugs in my system put me into a frenzied state as I pulled as much into my
throat as possible.
	"Yeah, suck my fat cock."  The guy moaned, pushing as much through
the hole as he could.
	"Yeah, suck that cock."  I heard Mark whisper as he tongue-fucked
my ear.  Though the air was warm, I had goose bumps over my entire body.
"Eat that fat fucking dick."
	I don't know what turned me on more.  Sucking that beautiful prick,
or Mark's urging me on.  In retrospect, I don't suppose that I gave it much
thought.  I was lost in the moment of gratuitous lust.  I was lost in a
world of cock.  All that existed for me was this guys hardness down my
throat.  The feel of his satiny flesh grinding over my sensitive lips and
down my hungry craw was almost more that I could take.  The feeling was
incredible.  Through the fog of my cocksucking state, I could hear the
unmistakable sound of head being given behind me.  I turned my head far
enough to see Mark going down on the dick of someone from the other stall.
Though I couldn't see it, from the motion of Mark's thrusting head it must
have been a big one.  We sucked anonymous cock for awhile together.  Both
of us were turned on by the thought of sharing the situation.  I felt Mark
digging in my ass as I went crazy on the young guy's dick.  The dude was
enjoying himself, pounding my face.
	"Can I fuck you?"  I heard from above.  I wasn't sure if it was my
guy or Mark's but we both got the idea together.  We rose as one and turned
around.  I pulled Mark's suit down and he pulled down mine.  I could see
the hard prick that had kept Mark entertained.  Now, I am proud of my dick.
But the cock that Mark had been sucking was truly majestic.  The large
mushroom head sat atop a throbbing ten inches of beer can thick grade A
prime.  The thought of offering to switch came into my mind, but I did want
to be able to walk afterwards.  Mark did not seem to be worried.  We backed
up to the holes and bent at the waist.
	"Lick that hole."  Mark grunted.
	"Yeah, eat that man pussy."  I growled, leaning far enough forward
to suck face.  Mark and I twined tongues as our fuckers ate our asses.  My
fucker could only be new to it, but he sure got an A for effort and from
Mark's reaction his was an expert.  After a minute or two, I felt my guy
running his dickhead over my inflamed asslips.  He drove it home in one
stroke.  I lost myself in Mark's mouth as I felt him grind into my
sensitive gut.  Mark gasped as his fucker tried to insert that monster cock
into him.  I was bouncing off the end of my dude's dick like a hand puppet
as Mark grimaced, trying to accomodate his.
	"Here, this will help."  Mark's guy said.  I saw Mark reach around
behind himself and take a small bottle from the guy.  Mark looked at it and
smiled.  I had never seen poppers before.  I watched as Mark unscrewed the
cap and held it to his nose.  A surreal look came to his face as he held it
out to me.
	"Fuck me."  Mark moaned.  I took the bottle from him and sniffed.
The acrid aroma invaded my head as I huffed.  Instantly, I felt a warm
flush pervade my head.  As dude stroked in and out of my butt, an animal
instinct overtook me and I slammed back into him with gusto.  Mark was now
getting nailed by his fucker's alarmingly huge cock.  We caught each
other's lips and tongues on the rebound as we got reamed by our anonymous
ass pounders.  My prostate went into full spasm as the kid mashed it with
his uncut dick.  Long trails of precum leaked from my rock hard cock as it
waved in the air in time with our spastic rhythm.  I saw Mark back up to
the wall and prop himself there open to the ramming that he was being
given.  I did the same, offering my hole for the kid to cream.  I took
another hit from the bottle and passed it to Mark.  He leaned over more and
pulled me to him.  I lost myself in the serious mouth olympics that we
held.  We gasped into each others mouths as we snorted the poppers
together.  The veins in Mark's neck stood out as he was slammed from
behind.  I could feel my nuts gravitate north as my boy pistoned to his
explosion.
	"Oh yeah."  I heard.  Mark grasped my shoulders and stood up,
pulling me to a standing position.  I reached out and propped myself with
his pec muscles in my hands.  I squeezed his erect nipples as a look of
complete ecstasy came to his face.  Mark's bobbing cock exploded, sending
ropes of hot spunk to my face, my chest, and my cock.  The sight of Mark
coming, pushed me over the edge.  I shot into the air and onto Mark's hot
body.  I could hear Mark's fucker huffing like a freight train as my ass
squeezed the kid's dick.  I felt him stiffen as he unloaded his scalding
seed in my turd box.
	Time stood still as I felt my boy take his dick from my sore butt.
I leaned towards Mark, trying to catch my breath.  I heard a pop as Mark's
fucker pulled free.  We stood, supporting each other, for some time.
	"Keep the poppers."  Mark's fucker said.  "You earned them."
	"Thanks man, I hope we meet again."  My guy said, exiting the room.
Mark and I were alone.  I looked into his eyes and grinned.
	"Thanks for the bump."



Hey guys, me again.

I hope you had fun.  I know I did.  From the lack of response, it seems
that interest for this story has waned.  I don't know whether to wind it up
or finish it the way I would like.  Maybe this genre is not my forte.  If
you want more, let me know.  Otherwise the end may be near.

If you have something to contribute contact me at
laeauthornow@sbcglobal.net.  As always,

lae.