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by
The 1995 Ford Escort was white with a blue plastic interior. It was not glamorous. Its automatic transmission shifted from first to second with a thud, but it got me around through undergrad just fine. I wasn't sure why I kept it around and I acted on that uncertainty this past March when I put an ad on an Internet classified page.
'95 Ford Escort, wht/bl, 77k, new tires, bks; a/c, pwr strg, CD plyr. $1,900 obo
Two weeks passed and I received one call from a guy in Athens who wanted to give me $500 for it. And deliver it from Atlanta. After seriously considering the offer for a second I asked him if was actually fucking nuts or if he thought Hannibal Lechter had fed me my brain, as well. I assume he's since found a perfectly fine Pinto or Chevette somewhere.
* * *
I spent the bulk of the miserably rainy Saturday morning at the gym. After an hour and a half on the cross-trainer, I called it a day and walked the six blocks back to my 1,450 square feet of suburbia. A good day to sample my DVD collection of Marines and alleged Marines jerking and sucking each other off. Maybe I'd befriend Judas, a twelve-inch-long, eight-inch-thick, jet-black dildo I received as a going away present from a buddy in Columbus. He suggested that if my tight little ass couldn't take it, I could use it as a paperweight or a centerpiece. He was thoughtful that way.
I settled into the Navy blue couch I'd gotten as a graduation present and prepared for a daylong bout of serious masturbating. About twenty minutes and two loads into On Patrol, my phone rang. "Yeah," I grunted into the receiver. "I was calling about your car?" "The Escort?" I asked incredulously in return. The ad was now six weeks old. "Yeah, the '95 Escort. Is it still for sale?" "Sure." There was a long silence before I realized I should probably ask the young caller if he'd like to see it. "Yeah, I mean, I'm here if you want to come by, take it for a drive." "Great, how do I get there?" I gave him directions and he said he'd be by in an hour. "Oh, I'm Gary," I added as an afterthought. "Randy," he replied. "See you in an hour, Randy." I put the phone in the cradle and laughed to myself. Randy was Brit-Slang for horny. Horny was coming to look at my car.
I wore only a pair of white, Gap Athletic shorts and was folding towels on the dining room table when he arrived. Exactly an hour after he called. I heard the car pull up and stop on the street that cut through my neighborhood, the latest addition to Atlanta's sprawl. Two doors shut and I heard the banter of young men. I answered the door before the knock. "Hey, I'm Randy." I tried to smile politely, but I felt like my mouth had become pinned to my ears. "Yeah, hey, come on in." "This is Dave, he's my chauffeur until I get my own car." "How ya doin' Dave?" He nodded and stuffed his hands deep into the pockets of his Structure jeans. His triceps flexed in response. I stepped aside and followed the young men into the foyer. As I willed my grin to a more appropriate size, I became aware of the little bit of clothing I had on. Randy wore a pair of baggy jeans and a maroon polo with a white t-shirt underneath. His beaded choker was turned to show the clasp. A barbed-wire tattoo peeked out from his left sleeve, which he casually pushed up to scratch some sort of itch. He filled both shirts completely. The fitted baseball cap he wore backwards on his impressive head proclaimed "BOILERMAKERS." Short, wavy black hair curled up over the lip. The cap was hours old. I imagined he bought it that afternoon, just after his acceptance letter arrived in the mail. "You go to Purdue?" I asked. "Yup. Well, I don't actually go yet. This fall." "Cool," I said, becoming more and more self-conscious of my lack of underwear. "Dave's headed to Toledo," Randy added, tipping his head toward his beefy friend. "He's got a football scholarship." "Cool, I went to Ohio State on a partial wrestling scholarship. What position?" Dave grinned and squeezed his left wrist. "They say they're gonna start me at fullback. I like tight end better but I'm not complaining. Gotta work on my blocking this summer." "You guys want something to drink?" I asked. "No, we're good." Randy answered for both of them and raised his left brow in Dave's direction. I fetched a Diet Coke from the fridge. "I wrestled in high school, too," Dave offered. "What weight class were you in?" he asked. "I was 162 lbs. in high school. In college I bulked up to about 175." A vein ran the length of Dave's massive right arm, and one corner of his mouth dipped lower than the other, giving him a gorgeously crooked smile. His dirty blonde hair was still wet from a shower. "Come on," I said, "let's look at the car." I led them to the garage.
I'd had the Escort detailed and it looked comfortable next to my nicer, but equally racy Accord. Randy and Dave walked around the car and got in. "It really does run well. Here, take it out for a ride." I handed Randy the keys and walked over to punch the garage door opener. The Bone-colored door lifted smoothly on its track. "You sure?" Randy asked. "Yeah, go ahead. If you steal it I get to collect the insurance money." We laughed as much as the comment deserved and Randy started the car. As he backed out, he and Dave dove for the CD player.
In their absence I engaged in the filthiest fantasizing I had allowed myself in some time. I had seen a thousand Dave's and Randy's. In my old dorm; the mall; the apartment complex pool; 7-Eleven; Burger King; bagging groceries. They weren't going to be mistaken for models and in ten years the muscle they added so easily now would yield to Anheuser-Busch. But today they were the boy-next-door stereotype, complete with what appeared to be ample tools tucked into their pants. Randy and Dave were spectacularly American. My dick got hard, as I thought of them naked, fucking their girlfriends.
Ten minutes went by. The Escort pulled into the garage and I opened the door. "Come on in, " I beckoned. Randy bounded. "It runs great. I've driven cars ten-times worse and people wanted like $3,000 for 'em and shit." "Well, there's no catch, I just don't need two cars. My dad bought it for me for college. It's paid for, so whatever I get for it is gravy." "I'll take it," Randy said. "I got cash here." "Wow," I said surprised by his haste. "You can have it checked out if you want." "I trust ya," he quipped. "OK, then, let's go sit down and we'll sign the bill of sale and I'll give you the title." As I led them into the living room I saw the DVD cases sprawled on the coffee table, with a jar of lube standing obviously on the corner. "Fuck it," I thought. There was no time to divert them to another room. "Have a seat. You gotta excuse the porn, not much else to do on a rainy Saturday." "Jerkin' off's always a good way to spend the afternoon," Dave deadpanned as sat in the love seat, smiling his crooked smile. Randy sat on the couch, on the end closest to the lube and the remote control. "I'll be right back, the stuff's in my office." When I returned with the paperwork, Randy had picked up the case to On Patrol and was studying the cover. "Can I see this?" he asked. My ears buzzed at the question. I stammered, "Yeah, um, go ahead. Just hit play on that remote there." Randy pushed play and the movie picked up about where I'd cum the last time. The three of us fixed our eyes on the two studs wearing only dog tags and performing 69. A conspicuous hard on pushed at Dave's jeans and I felt my own making its way down my shorts.
It seemed surreal. Dave stood and pulled his t-shirt over his head. His smooth midsection wasn't defined, but he was tight in the way that younger husky guys are. Light brown hair covered his solid chest, which received more of his attention than his abs. He dropped the t-shirt on the carpet and unzipped his pants. Randy stood and removed his shirt, then his shoes, jeans, and socks. His raging cock strained at his boxer briefs as the sound of the on-screen sex surrounded us. I slid my shorts off and knelt before Randy's muscled legs, then pulled the briefs down to his ankles. He stepped out of them and I took his dick in my mouth. He put a palm on the back of my head and guided me further and further down his shaft. His cock was perfectly average. Perfectly. As I worked it with my tongue, invading his slit, I ran my hands over his ass, then up his belly, and finally to his chest. I twisted his left nipple and he pushed my head tight against him. Dave approached from my left, stroking himself. He was bigger than Randy, but not by much. The head of his dick was large, and shiny from spit and pre-cum. The stalk bent slightly to the left. I turned and took Dave on, deep throating him until he was buried up to his nuts in my face. He moaned as he developed a comfortable rhythm, fucking my mouth. At Randy's motion, Dave pulled out and finished removing his clothes. I stood up and grabbed the lube. "Come on, let's go to my room." "Can I bring this?" Dave had found Judas next to the couch and cradled it like a rifle. "Yeah, bring it," I said flatly. We walked down the hall to my bedroom, our hard ons bouncing with each step. "We wanna fuck you at the same time," Randy intoned, as Dave tossed the dildo on the bed like it was my answer. "Sure," I said as Randy got on the bed and lay on his back. He applied a generous helping of lube to his cock and spread it over the length. I straddled him and sat on his 19 year-old tool. As soon as he was fully inside me, I leaned forward and flattened myself on his chest while keeping his cock in place. It was Dave's turn.
Dave climbed onto the bed and inserted a finger in my ass along the bottom side of Randy's shaft. Then two, and finally a third. Placing the head of his meat to his fingers, he slowly replaced one with the other. An initial rush of pain shot through my torso as Dave put his weight into me. "Easy, cowboy," I cautioned. Dave backed off and pushed more slowly into my hole. When he was almost home he grabbed my back and shoved himself the rest of the way in. For several seconds the three of us lay still, enjoying the sensation. Then, we began.
I couldn't hide my pleasure. I grunted and gasped at the mass of dick in my ass. Randy grew more verbal, "Beg for it fucker! Beg for these cocks in your ass!" "Yeah," I answered, "fuck me! Fuck my hole! Harder!!" "Yeah, that's it! You like our cocks in your ass, don't' you?! Yeah, you know you do! Take it fucker! Take it!!" Randy's words excited me as I bounced on my handsome teenagers. Dave continued to work me from behind, grabbing my ass, smacking it. I could feel his balls slap against me and we continued our dance for the next ten minutes. Our bodies becoming more slippery as sweat oozed from every pore. In and out of my hole, Randy and Dave's cocks slid like one unit. Like one giant dick. Like Judas.
Dave pulled out and backed onto his knees. Randy pushed my chest away and I lifted myself from him. "My turn, " Randy said, as he rolled over and presented his tight, pink hole for me to plow. "Oh, you bet it's your turn." With that I quickly lubed myself and positioned my pole for entry. "Fuck me, man! Put that fat cock o' yours in me!" I granted Randy's wish and with the subtlety of a red wedding dress I pounded my dick as far inside him as I could. "Ahhhhhhh!" Randy cried out. "Yeah, slam my ass! Slam it!!!" I placed my palms flat on each cheek and rammed myself up his canal. Faster. Faster. My pubic bone met his ass, louder and louder. Sweat ran into my eyes and my forearms glistened. With each thrust Randy growled into the pillow. He bit down hard on its edge. "Roll him over," Dave said as he maneuvered and stroked himself. I pulled my cock from Randy and he returned to his back. I grabbed the pillow Randy had buried his face in and put it under his ass, then as gingerly as I had the first time, I tore into his fuckhole, pumping with fury. Dave positioned his ass over Randy's face. He arched his back and closed his eyes as Randy dug in with his tongue. I pushed Randy's legs back with my weight and leaned into Dave. Our mouths met and balanced on one another. Moaning and breathing as Randy's goatee scratched him, Dave reached over to his right and grabbed Judas. "I want this fucker inside me!" He'd have to wait. I wasn't done with Randy. With his legs resting on my shoulders, Randy shuttered with each entry. His breathing quickened and he fumbled for his cock. Five or six pulls and he exploded cum all over his chest, some making its way onto Dave's pole. "Cum down my throat," Dave commanded me. I exited Randy, grabbed Dave's head, and forced him onto my shaft. I fucked his face as he spit and slurped, trying not to gag.
Randy covered the dildo with lube as Dave positioned himself on all fours, still bobbing his face on my cock. With a steady push, Dave and Judas were one. Dave stifled a high-pitched scream as he sucked me hard, his teeth beginning to make me raw. He was in pain, but he was determined. Randy pulled the monster dildo from his friend, then pushed it back in. Dave winced, trying again not to scream, continuing to polish my rod with considerable skill. In and out, Randy pushed and pulled as Judas opened Dave ever wider, forcing his hole to accept its girth. I pumped Dave's mouth. Randy pumped his ass. His body was full. We struggled to maintain control. As he rammed Dave with Judas, Randy's cock grew rigid again and he smacked it aggressively against his leg. Lifting himself to his knees, Randy beat his dick in time with his thrusting of Judas. Dave's body rocked back and forth. Randy's breathing sped up, the telltale sign of an impending orgasm. He pulled the dildo out, stood, and squirted it with a generous dousing, crying out, "God! Motherfucker! Ah. Ah. Ah. Ah. Ahhhhh!" Slowly he pushed the cum-soaked toy deep into Dave, who was hypnotized by the punishment he was taking on both ends.
"Here it comes fucker!" I hollered. A flood quickly overloaded Dave's mouth, the excess milk running down his chin. I pulled him up to me and kissed him, sucking my cum, returning it. Dave reached down and pulled on his twitching cock. He had held off as long he could but by now he was ready to gush. I lay back and invited Dave's rod to my face. He placed the head against my lips and pounded ferociously. As the sound of his orgasm bounced off the bare walls, a torrent of man juice shot into my mouth. Streaming. Striking the back of my throat. Salty. Sticky. Hot. It seemed endless. I remained gape-mouthed as Dave squeezed himself dry. A string of cum clung to my chin, stretching like cheese as he pulled away. It broke finally, landing diagonally across my chin. I wiped it with my index finger, then licked it clean.
We dressed and returned to the living room. The movie was done. So were we. We completed the paperwork and I gave Randy the keys. Dave walked to his car and I walked Randy to his. "Oh, hey," Randy asked, "Do you have the owner's manual? I didn't see it in the glove box." "Sure, it's somewhere inside if you want to wait a minute." "Nah, that's alright. You find it and we'll stop by tomorrow and pick it up." I winked at Randy and he turned the key. I went in, found the manual, and put it on the table next to the front door. Looking at the dusty cover, my cock swelled again. I moved it to my nightstand. Next to Judas.
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