Date: Sun, 16 Apr 2000 09:36:48 -0700 (PDT)
From: Willie Hewes <williehewes@yahoo.com>
Subject: Roadmovie

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Hello everyone, this is "Roadmovie", I hope you enjoy
it. I'm Williehewes@yahoo.com, you can mail me if you
like it, or not, or if you just want to talk. For more
stories like this one go to:
http://www.geocities.com/willie_hewes
======================================================


Roadmovie

     He was crazy, you see.
     Or I was.
     Well, one of us was. At the least.

It was halfway in the morning. I had made him breakfast, which we ate in
bed, 'cause the sheets had to be changed anyway. Now, finally, we were both
showered and dressed, and had landed on the large black couch in his
living-room. Was it a Tuesday? A Saturday? It had been a long time since I
stopped caring.
      "What do you wanna do today?" He asked with the impish smile I had
fallen for so quickly. We discussed possibilities light-heartedly, from
things involving strawberries and cream to going to the beach to play with
kites.
      "I know," he said suddenly, "let's go buy a car." I thought he was
still joking, but he wasn't. "Seriously, let's buy a convertible and drive
around for a while. It's great weather..." You see, he wasn't only crazy,
he was also rich. Too rich, really. When *he* dressed up in drag, it was in
a Versaci. When he was bored, he flew to London for the weekend. And when
he and his new boyfriend had nothing to do, he bought a new car to drive
him around for a while. Ridiculous? Yes. Should I have protested? Yeah
right, as if you would have.

      The car-salesman pulled up his eyebrows higher with every strange
comment that we made.
      "This one's kinda sexy," I said.
      "Does this one come in green?"
      "Green!?"
      "Yeah. Camouflage, for in the woods." We were laughing so much it
must have seemed like we were drunk.
      "He's got a nice ass, though." I sat down on the back-end of blue
Corvette.
      "Yeah, just the right height." The salesman rolled his eyes. I looked
at my broadly smiling millionaire and thought: this is the greatest time.

     Broad, empty road, blue sky, wilderness stretching for miles
round. American dreaming. It was warm, and we had taken off our shirts. I
waved cheerfully at the few cars we passed. People waved back hesitantly or
frowned at me through their windshields. He was talking about a beach
holiday he had as a kid.
     "Shit it's so hot," I said. Leather stuck to my back. He was hot
too. I could see little drops of sweat all over his delicious bronzed
chest. I took off my shoes and socks. Then I took off my pants and threw
them in the back. He looked on without comment, never keeping his eyes off
the road for long. I sank back in my seat and slung my right leg out over
the side of the car. He started to drive faster. I could feel the wind
between my toes. I giggled.
     "It tickles!" He laughed.
     "Ah, wind in your toes." He raked his hand through his blonde
hair. "This is the real life."

     I looked up at his face. So princely. He was wearing a silver-framed
pair of shades. They gave his a smart, successful look. Just what he
was. Smart and succesful. A drop of sweat ran from his hair down the side
of his face. He looked at me for a second, then back at the road. He licked
his lips. On both sides, the landscape raced by at 60 miles an hour. The
radio played The Thong Song, and I started singing along. He didn't join
me, but kept stealing long glances at me. A Volvo passed us from the
opposite direction and honked his horn. I got up from my seat to yell at
him. Standing up, the wind blew even harder, pulled my hair into my face
and played along my shoulders and neck. I loved it, and climbed up on my
seat, holding on to the bar that supported the roof. The wind was so strong
my eyes started to water, but it felt great. Refreshing. Exiting.
      "I'm king of the woooorld!" I shouted. He started to laugh
uncontrollably. "Woohoohoo!" I laughed along with him, holding on with one
hand, and playing with his hair with the other. "Jack, I'm flying!" Jack
looked up with a rather sarcastic smile.
      "Some king of the world you are, in your *underwear*!"
      "What do you mean!" I couldn't stop shouting, that's how great I
felt.
      "You're in your underwear, you big sissy!" he shouted back. "How
kingly is that? Come on, you have to go all the way, lose the shorts!" I
looked around. The road was rather empty, but not deserted. There was a
station-wagon ahead of us that we were going to overtake. I let myself drop
back into my seat. I looked at him, his shortish blond hair played by the
wind, the slim shades and cocky smile. A rivulet of sweat ran down between
his tits into his belly button. I didn't care about the station-wagon. I
arched my back and slipped out of my boxer shorts. I was going to throw
them in the back with the rest of my clothes, but he took them from my hand
and just threw them up in the air.
     "Woops, underpants on the road!" I stood up again, fighting the wind
and holding on to the windshield.
     "Free Willy!" I swung my hips from side to side, letting my sweaty
dick swing freely between my thighs. I really felt like the king of the
world, racing through the great outdoors, my hair trailing behind my head,
the wind playing with my nipples, making them hard. Tears from the wind
rolled down my face. I shouted his name.
      "Yes?"
      "I love you!" He laughed. He smacked my bottom, and called back,
      "I bet you feel really good right now."

      We finally overtook the station-wagon. I waved my little friend at
the driver, who tried his best not to look. There were kids on the back
seat. I sat down again, and stretched my arms wide. He patted my thigh, and
turned his head to look back at the car we had passed.
      "Yeah, I feel great, really." I said, very seriously. I took another
long look at him. Everything about this man exited me, his strong hands,
his arms, his chest. His legs were packed in his tight jeans now, but that
seemed to make them only more enticing. His newly pumped up pectorals were
shiny with sweat, adorned with two small, perfectly round little
nipples. And his sweat! I could smell his sweat now, faintly, the maddening
smell of sex, of fucking for hours.

      We just drove on like that for a while, me sitting naked with my legs
apart, he with his eyes on the road. We passed other cars and a few
buildings. I cared less and less. I kept looking at him, searching for his
smell on the wind, getting more and more exited. I was getting hard slowly,
and wondered if he realised this. Finally, when I felt I had to either get
dressed again and forget about it or jerk off right there in the car, his
right hand left the wheel. He didn't immediately grab me, pretended at
first that he just wanted to wipe the sweat on his jeans. He rubbed his leg
for a while. He still pretended he didn't see me, and so I started to look
out at the road too, as if I didn't care, as if I didn't see how he traced
his index finger along the inside of his thigh a little bit higher every
time.

     Then, suddenly, he grabbed my dick and pulled it hard. I jumped,
wincing with pain. He could be very dominant sometimes, like when he fucked
me really hard and told me to stop whining. Or when he handled my half-soft
dick a little too roughly, like now.
     "Ouch," I said softly, although it didn't really hurt anymore now. I
got hard again, faster this time.
     "Yeah, babe, let it grow for me," he said. "Let him get nice and
hard..." I had no trouble doing that. He was handling me with care now,
expert care. He was speeding, 80 miles an hour, jerking my cock and keeping
the car on the road with his other hand. I looked at the sky, and closed my
eyes. I thought of his cock, hard, shiny, as I had seen it last night. The
long shaft, soft to the touch but hard as a rock, the perfect, mushroom
shaped head with two tiny lips that drooled pre-cum onto my skin... I
stretched my arms out and let the wind play through my fingers, as it
played with my hair, along my shoulders and down my chest. I put one hand
in his neck and gently pulled his hair. He spat in his hand and spread his
spit over my shaft. He played with me, traced his fingers ever-so-lightly
over the burning skin of my head, teased me with his soft, short fingers.

     A truck came at us from the other side, I realised the driver would be
able to see straight into our car at what was going on. I winked at him
when we passed at each other, but I don't think he saw it, we were going
too fast. We seemed to be constantly gaining speed. I looked at him again,
the bulge in his jeans that betrayed his own erection. I stroked his hair,
and took off his sunglasses. Finally I could see his smiling, blue eyes. I
gasped. He stroked me with long, quick jerks, massaging my bloodfilled
cock. I heard myself moan and closed my eyes.
     "Are you gonna cum?" he asked, "Are you gonna shoot at the sky? Feels
great to be naked, doesn't it?" I moaned a reply. "Powerful. King of the
world. You're the king of my world, Ray."
     "Oooh!" I was going to cum. Couldn't hold back, didn't want to.
     "Yes! Come on Ray, come for me! Let me see you cream!" He started to
stroke even faster. I heard the engine roar, the car driving so fast it
seemed we were flying. And I exploded, my muscles tensed, my head thrown
back. I shot my boiling load of cum straight up, moaning and writhing in my
chair. It flew all over the place, on my naked belly, my legs, the car
seat.
      "Jeez, Ray, you're leaking all over the place!" he said smiling,
still milking me as fast as he could. I could only answer with loud
moaning, shaking with the last spasms of my orgasm. Finally I was spent,
and hung limply in my seat, my arm still on his shoulders. He wiped off his
hand on his jeans and slowed down again. I didn't know how fast he had been
driving, and I didn't care. I only knew that I felt great, and that I
wanted to stay with him for a long long time.