Episode
10 - Acceleration
Pulling onto the entrance ramp, Trace accelerated.
The late hour provided for very little traffic and allowed Trace
to seamlessly obtain the left lane with a single turn of the
wheel. Accelerating to eighty miles an hour, he opened all the
windows and turned up the radio. He did not recognize the song,
but its frenetic beat matched his pulse, and he accelerated
to eighty-five, knowing if he did not traverse the few miles
quickly, he would change his mind.
Crossing the two right lanes, he took exit
15. Seeing the red light at the end of the exit, he braked but
gunned it the moment it turned green, allowing him to keep the
vehicle aggressively lunging foreword. Taking two consecutive
left turns, he reentered the highway, now taking the opposite
direction. This time he stayed in the slow lane but still brought
the vehicle up to eighty-five, until he sighted the signs for
his destination and pulled into a rest area.
Speeding down the entrance ramp, he pumped
the brakes as he drove between two parking lots and swung the
truck into the upper lot and pulled into a parking spot with
a screeching halt. The vehicle bucked forward as he turned off
the ignition and flicked the lights off.
Looking out his passenger window, he locked
eyes with a man parked beside him and realized there was an
empty parking spot between them. The two continued to lock eyes,
as Trace’s heart raced with anxious expectation.
Breaking the stare, the man started his car
and reversed, and Trace regretted the lost opportunity until
he noticed the man had not turned his headlights on. He looked
in his rearview mirror and realized the man’s car continued
to move in reverse, greatly overcompensating for the length
of the parking spot. The car disappeared from the length of
the mirror and reappeared in the empty spot to his left.
Locking eyes with Trace, the ante rose as the
man lowered his passenger window and nodded for Trace to do
the same.
Fingering his window open, Trace was immediately
greeted: “Hello.”
“Hi,” Trace nervously responded,
as he fidgeted with his steering wheel.
“First time?”
Unsure of the protocols or how to proceed with
acknowledging what he was here for, Trace simply answered, “Yes.”
“You were supposed to pull up to my passenger
side, Newbie,” the man teasingly informed.
Too preoccupied with thought to answer, Trace
made a mental note of this protocol and realized there were
probably many things he did not know about this yet.
The man smiled and motioned his head toward
his passenger seat: “Get in!”
Trace’s heart raced, and he wished the
man had offered to come into his truck, so he made that request:
“I’d prefer you come in here.”
Trace knew the man’s hesitation would
result in a no, if he did not offer an effective argument: “After
all, I’m the newbie.”
The man hesitated for an indecisive moment
before leaping out of his car, running around the both cars,
and climbing into Trace’s proffered passenger seat.
Trace was unsure of his duties as host, so
he simply turned toward the man and realized for the first time
what this stranger looked like. Averagely handsome, the man’s
attractiveness was amplified by a particular glint in his eyes,
often found in Anglo-Saxon men once their genetic pool has been
revitalized with something southern. Trace wondered if this
stranger was indicative of the men to be found in such places
or if he was just lucking out, and he forget his catechism as
he gazed further into the man’s eyes.
Redirecting Trace’s attention back to
their mutual need, the man offered a guiding question: “Why
don’t you start by taking your foot off the brake?”
Shocked to find he had held the brake pedal
to the floor since pulling into the parking spot, Trace released
it.
The man laughed as he reached across the seat,
grabbed hold of Trace’s crotch bulge, and fingered the
zipper open: “And I’ll start by getting you off.”
Exposing Trace’s already hard cock, the
man lowered his head to Trace’s lap: “Sit back and
relax, Newbie.”
Trace raised his eyes to the row of coniferous
trees beyond the empty lower lot before him. His nose filled
with the smell of damp and decomposing pine needles, as his
ears filled with the sounds of sucking, swelling his cock to
complete rigidity. Placing his hand on the back of the man’s
head, he weaved his fingers through the tawny colored hair.
Its dusky suggestion of wet hay reminded Trace of when he and
a friend trespassed into the local dairy barn. The dark dank
interior imprinted itself as the precursor for all things sexual
when his friend reached through the rank air and cupped Trace’s
prepubescent bulge in his hand, but before Trace could fully
sensate or reciprocate, the farmer stormed into the barn and
interrupted them, just as Trace was interrupted now by a heated
moisture ripping through his cock.
The man pulled his head back, and Trace came
audibly, as a sibilant spurt of cum shot out from his piss slit
and splattered against the tip of his nose before raining over
his lap, where the man rapidly stroked him until the least pearl
of semen oozed from his cock.
“That’s was fucking awesome; Nice
load, Newbie!” The man opened the door and jumped out
with an irresponsible promise: “See you around.”
Trace shoved his increasingly flaccid wet cock
into his zipper and rushed to start his truck. Flipping the
lights on, he reversed out of the parking spot before the man
had a chance to open his car door.
Driving down the entrance ramp, Trace strained
to remember the man’s hair color or the association it
evoked. Unable to recall, he exhaled, and the heedless ease
of post-sex posture needled him to question his anonymous nocturnal
departure from the highway. Having cum, he decided not to return
to the rest area again. Pulling onto the highway, he wiped the
cum off the tip of his nose and accelerated.
Continue
to the next episode.
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