Along the Flint Lance Vargas

   (MM, ir, hj)

   Every adjustor in the Atlanta office was mobilized, and I found myself
driving along the Flint River in Middle Georgia far away from my urban
comfort.

   The flooding had been extensive so I was keeping an eye out for damage.
That coupled with driving through unfamiliar territory I was keen to detail
in the landscape, which consisted mostly of the river on one side and woods
and the odd farm or shack on the other.

   It was as I was passing one of those shacks that something or someone
caught my eye.  Actually, it was the only human being I had seen for the
past hour, and that includes any other vehicle on the road.

   I saw him near the shack through the trees - a tall black man dressed in
denim bib overalls, and he was simply standing still looking at the road.
Or so I thought.  I caught the action out of the corner of my eye, and it
took a second for my brain to register.

   Was he masturbating?  Although a fleeting glimpse, I could almost swear
he was pleasuring himself out in the open.  That couldn't be right.  I had
to turn around, I thought.

   "Had to turn around?  Why in the world would I have to turn around?  Why
do I need to substantiate that a strange black man is jacking off?" my mind
asked.  Because I had to.

   Sure enough, I found myself slowing down and making a Y turn on the
narrow highway giving little heed to those questions going through my head.

   I drove slowly back trying to retrace my steps, trying to remember which
side of the shack he was on, or if I had even seen anyone.  And my mind
continued the questions, "what was I going to do when I found him?"

   The sight of the overalls finally made me pay attention to those
thoughts.

   "Well, there he is.  Now what?"

   "Wait a minute, I'm slowing down?  Why?"

   I stopped the car and turned off the engine.  He saw me, but whatever he
was doing it didn't faze him one bit as he stayed in place with his arm
moving back and forth.

   "I've unbuckled my seatbelt!  Surely, I'm not thinking of ...."

   I exited the car and began walking toward him.  He simply stared at me
with no trace of emotion on his face.

   I nodded at him as I walked away from the car but he did not
acknowledge.

   I tried thinking up a story why I needed to stop and see him, but my
mind was completely occupied by trying to see if he was doing what I
thought he was doing.

   He was.

   As I approached him I saw that one strap of his overalls was undone and
the side was completely unsnapped and flapped over exposing his penis, or
more correctly, exposing his rather large and long horse dick.

   He was a young man, an older boy with very dark skin that glistened with
a sheen of sweat and shone in the tree filtered rays of sun.  He was
stroking an erection that was at the very least nine inches long, possibly
ten, and so wide his hand barely fit around it.  It too glistened in the
sunlight.

   I was hypnotized watching his hand going back and forth from his
uncircumcised head to what I could see of his ball sack.  Short curls of
black hair peeked from behind the flap.

   The only noise was his labored breathing.  He looked only at me as I
stared at his huge cock.

   Without an invitation and violating personal space and common sense I
reached a hand toward his crotch.

   He removed his hand letting his dick wobble in suspended animation as if
defying gravity.  I gaped at his magnificence in all its glory unencumbered
by support.  But its magnetism was too great, and my hand was drawn to it.

   It was apparent my hand was smaller than his and I could barely grasp it
completely.  I felt him jerk slightly as I touched him, but he remained
still.

   I pulled the black flesh back exposing a pink head the size of an apple.
He groaned slightly.

   I covered the head again with the return stroke, and continued the
procedure.  I glanced at his face as I pulled back and forth on that black
beast.  His eyes were closing, and I continued my ministrations.

   I enlisted my other hand to help bring the deliberations to its intended
fruition, and now both hands were working this beast that I dubbed Donkey
Dong.  I still marveled at the sheer mass of this penis, but penis sounded
to shallow a term for something so massive.

   It could have been imagination, but I swear I felt him growing larger.
His breathing became shallower.

   The droplet on his tip grew larger, fell and was replaced by another.

   I did not speed up or slow down but maintained a steady pace.  I tried
to grip him firmer, but I was already having difficulty just managing his
erection.

   He moved slightly, and I became concerned I was making him
uncomfortable. Instead, he shrugged the remaining strap from his shoulder,
and his overalls fell to his ankles exposing everything above.

   He was so muscled that I was was again in awe of him and his perfectly
sculpted pecs and washboard stomach.  This young boy was a worker who
worked hard.

   And this huge dick protruded from his groin sparsely surrounded by hair.
His balls hung low and swung freely beneath my motions.  He began to spread
his knees and bend them slightly.

   I heard a low guttural growl and with the slightest warning I saw his
ejaculate explode from the tip of his dick.  His semen flew in front of
him, and I was amazed at the volume of each volley that hit the leaves on
the ground.

   He grunted at each emission until it finally subsided.  Still not a word
was spoken.

   I found myself standing there with spent spunk on my hand and a
softening dick slipping from my grasp.

   I gingerly reached for my handkerchief in my back pocket and wiped my
hand.  He reached down and grabbed his overalls not saying a word or even
acknowledging my presence.

   That was my cue to leave, and I headed through the tree line to my car.
I was acutely aware of my own erection tenting my pants.

   My mind returned with more questions, "I'm a married white male with
three children, a house in the suburbs and the hots for that little blonde
secretary.  What the hell did I just do?  And why am I so horny right now?"

   I was very horny, and I knew there was only one thing to do.  I sat in
my car and unzipped my pants.  I fished my erection from my fly and began
to stroke it.  I closed my eyes letting the feeling build.

   Then I heard the crack of twigs and looked quickly to see my new friend
was walking slowly toward the car.  He stopped when I saw him, but he gazed
at my lap.  No sign of emotion was apparent on his face.  He simply
watched.

   When I felt my balls begin to churn I unsnapped my pants and unbuckled
my belt.  Then I stepped out of my car and stood up letting my pants fall.

   Almost immediately I came and shot into the ditch on the side of the
road.  It was powerful and the feeling from the tip of my dick to deep in
my crotch was almost too intense.  I began to shacke.

   When I finished I shook the last drop from the tip of my dick.

   I looked at him and he gave me a slight smile.  Then he walked back to
the shack.

   After straightening myself I turned the car around and headed South with
one thought in mind: "What you do when no one is looking is who you really
are."

   Did I really have the hots for that little blonde?  Or did the mail boy
catch my eye.
   I don't think I cared which at this point.