Drive Ch. 03

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“I need a room for the rest of the night. One bed, double or bigger.”

Lou huffed and cleared his throat, flipping up the ends of a couple twenties in his clip. His sausage link fingers handed the money over.

The motel clerk considered the middle-aged man without a word. Decent suit. Not great. Clean. Trimmed hair. His eyes cut over to the man’s car. Older. Well-kept. Probably sentimental over it. Or too cheap to trade up. One passenger waited inside of it. A young man. Blond. Slender. No – delicate. That’s what his wife would call it. The boy didn’t look like he could be out of high school yet. The cigarette in the clerk’s mouth shifted to the opposite corner of his lips while he studied the older man again. It was just business. And none of his own.

Lou took the key, walking back to his car to move it. Chris said nothing. He hadn’t since the night’s employer had unexpectedly picked him up from the sidewalk not a quarter mile from his house. The car stopped in the space in front of door twenty-two. Lou gave Chris the key, telling him to go inside while Lou went to the trunk.

The knob rattled loosely when Chris opened it. Inside, he immediately noticed the smell of stale smoke. The carpet might as well have been a stretch of muslin, as worn down and crushed as it looked. A small television sat on the end of a Fifties bureau, and not one of the more attractive designs. Cables streamed down the back, no attempt made to hide them. A brief, tattered list of films and start times lay next to the set. Chris was sure that it had been a long time since “Farmer’s Daughters” or “Gone with the Skin” had stopped airing, but the feed that broadcast them was no doubt still serving up similar fare. Chris dropped the listing down and headed for the bathroom. Releiving himself gave him a moment to look the room over. All of the porcelain was clean. It was, however, best not to ponder whether the tile grout was black by design or neglect. Chris fastened the buttonfly and washed his hands, something he knew he’d be wanting to do a lot in this room.

His hands braced on the sink’s edge. The room’s front door opened and closed. Chris glanced behind himself at the closed bathroom door to listen. At least one paper bag was involved. He could hear Lou’s quiet, sighed grunt. The one that usually meant things were going his way. Chris looked back to his reflection. He looked well enough. His short blond hair and long bangs clean and neat. No rough edges to his fingernails. The preparatory enema that had become a Thursday morning ritual over and done. Chris took the sides of his open shirt collar for an inspecting sniff. His skin smelled of nothing but fading soap and the detergent on his clothes. Chris had cologne, but had stopped wearing it completely more than two months ago. The last thing he wanted Lou thinking was that the boy put any special effort into their Thursdays.

With a slow sigh, Chris pushed himself upright. They were here for a purpose, after all. Maybe if the sex was hard enough, they could sleep through the rest of the night that much sooner. Chris opened the bathroom door. He found himself face-to-face with a large black lense at the other side of the queen bed’s foot. Lou glanced up from the camcorder’s viewpiece with a filthy smile.

“It’s Thursday, August seventh, six forty-nine P.M. This pretty blond thing is my son – all night long. Say ‘fuck me’ for the camera, son.”

Chris stood in the doorway, his arms folded.

“What is that?”

“It’s a video camera. I want to record our, um, first night of real privacy.”

“Whether I like it or not?”

“Exactly. I’m footing all the bills tonight, son. Now, if you want your tip, you’ll do things my way.”

“No condoms and cum stains inside my jeans? Yeah, real nice tip.”

Lou set the running camera down next to the television. It recorded every movement as he strode to the bathroom door and strongly backhanded the boy across his mouth. The strike dropped Chris to the floor. Lou reached into his hip pocket, pulling out something jangling as he knelt next to Chris’ body. The camera didn’t pick up anything more than light ratcheting sounds from behind the blind of the bed’s edge. Seconds later, the boy was picked up and tossed face-down on the covers. Chris’ wrists were handcuffed behind his back.

Moments of grumbles and muttering echoed lowly in the room. Lou hastily unfastened and pulled Chris’ jeans off, growling at his captive the whole time. The boy’s shirt was a less delicate matter, with his arms largely immobilized. Lou merely ripped it to pieces. Chris lie naked on the stiff bedding within a minute. Lou began flat-palmed, heavy slaps across the boy’s curvy backside. Every slap was chased by a rub and a grope of the flesh. Slap after slap. Mummbled threat after mummbled threat. By the time Lou shifted his position, Chris’ delicate skin glowed a dark pink. The red outlines of thick fingers were still clearly bursa escort visible. Lou stood up on his knees behind Chris’ prone figure. He made a big reveal of unzipping his trousers and exposing himself to the lens. His smooth, circumsized cockhead traced up and down the hairless divide between Chris’ reddened mounds. A wad of saliva aimed to fall against the tight young hole was all the concession Chris was going to get.

Screaming was not an option. Chris instead gave a restrained cry of pain as Lou shoved in without preamble. From the first, the thrusting was deep, steady, and fast. Lou ringed his fingers around the base of his shaft. He knelt on his left knee, braced with his leg up on his right foot. It allowed him to keep his thighs spread wide, so the camera wouldn’t miss an instant of the forty-six-year-old penis repeatedly vanishing up into the eighteen-year-old boy. The burning and aching brought out Chris’ growls and yelps. The boy looked up to the lens that glared back at him. The thought of others being shown Lou’s conquest sooner or later crossed his thoughts, raising the heat of an embarassed blush to his face. Jumping right into bed, at least, would likely put an early end to the evening. They could both be home, lying to their respective families within the hour. Lou’s wheezing began seconds later. Chris braced himself for the hot ooze on its way.

Lou pulled out of Chris and quickly crept up the boy’s body to straddle his ribcage from over his back. One hand grabbed the back of Chris’ soft hair, pulling enough for the camera to see the most of his feminine features, smooth and unmarred by puberty. Lou’s other hand beat off on his erection feverishly. It took only seconds to summon a milky orgasm. Splashes and streaks of white sperm shot across the boy’s cheeks and lips. Chris’ mouth opened for a wordless gripe of protest. Lou seized the opportunity to shoot his last drops at the back of the boy’s throat. The head and half the shaft pushed into Chris’ mouth, stroking against his tongue. Lou sat upright on his knees over the boy, waiting for his breath to slow.

“You look right into that camera, and you lick up everything you can reach. Swallow every drop.”

Chris did as ordered. His tongue stretched out to lick around his lips, and did his best to make the swallows audible. Lou’s fingers scraped the rest of the semen together in areas, wiping them off of the boy’s skin, then shoving his fingers into the young mouth for Chris to suck clean. The boy earned a slap on his cheek for his obedience, only half as strong as the one that had knocked him off his feet. His current possessor rolled the lithe boy onto his back.

Lou’s hands held to the sides of the boy’s neck, sliding up along under Chris’ jaw, then travelling out to his shoulders. Sleazy massaging started everywhere Lou touched. He took slow delight in pinching the blond’s pert nipples. Yanking them. Biting them. Sucking them red. Lou left the bed to stand on the floor, using the leverage to reposition the cuffed boy for his documentary. Chris soon sat with a leg to each side of the bed’s corner, braced back on his joined arms. Lou’s hand rubbed along the boy’s stomach in long strokes. They trailed down Chris’ thighs. Back up to the boy’s crotch. Lou rubbed hard over the curly white hair encircling Chris’ hooded penis. Always around it. Never fully touching another manhood. It was so much in keeping with Lou’s usual style. To him, a gay boy was simply a girl with a dick and no chest. Pleasuring Chris by any means but anal sex was never on Lou’s adgenda.

It took Chris completely by surprise when Lou’s thick fingers closed around the boy’s stiffening shaft. Lou pulled on the sensitive flesh slowly. Tightly. Back and forth. Watching the pale foreskin cinch itself closed over the round helmet, watching it bloom and reveal the large, fertile cock going to waste. Chris was hard in Lou’s grip within minutes. The man’s free hand reached further between the boy’s thighs, fondling the velvety sac and firm balls it found. His lips puckered, meeting Chris’ with short, almost cute smooches that smacked lightly for the soundtrack. Lou began licking Chris’ lips. The boy’s tongue gradually came out to play willingly. Deep, open mouthed kisses followed. So did the first soft moaning from the boy’s deep voice. It seemed as soon as Chris began to give, Lou stood up and moved away.

Lou calmly straightened his clothes, closed his pants, and left Chris to languish on the corner in his bothered state. The man walked around him to the small table, picking up a cell phone. Chris’ face fell into disbelief. The son of a bitch left him aching to make a goddamned call? To who? A pizza delivery?

“Jim? Lou. Coast is clear.”

Three seconds. That was it. That was what couldn’t wait. That was more important than pleasuring his faithful whore. Hanging up, Lou again reposed Chris on the bed, now centered between the pillows with his back bursa escort bayan to the headboard. Chris quickly poolled all of the saliva he had. He could still taste Lou’s sperm lacing it. Chris spat at Lou’s feet. He didn’t care that he’d missed. The camera caught the venom. The man ignored it. Lou switched on the television to the complementary supply of pornography. Taking a seat by the small, square table by the window, Lou opened his briefcase.

Chris glared at his captor while Lou started on finishing some random paperwork from his office. The blond snorted a quiet breath. Looking to the small screen, he hoped to be distracted from his predicament. No such luck. Two saline-enhanced women made out on the screen, soon joined by a third. Not one man to look at. Chris was sorely uninterested. The introduction of a thick double-ended dildo into their session at least stirred Chris’ imagination. He should see about buying a toy or two soon. He certainly had enough of Lou’s money to pay for them. Maybe a good vibrator could replace Lou completely. An inflatable doll could certainly replace the man’s company.

Half an hour’s passing brought a knock on the door. Lou answered it, but stepped outside the room to speak to their visitor. Granted, a bound, naked, high school senior with a film of semen dried on his face wasn’t something just anyone would be prepared to see. Lou came back inside with another paper bag, this one covering a twelve pack of cheap beers. The uncovered end of the case gave it away. He set it down on the table, then walked over to close the door behind another man carrying another case. A tall man in his early fifties had followed Lou inside. His jacket and cap, both casually being removed, resplendant in brown tones of wood-themed camouflage. What he was doing here, Chris had no idea.

Lou introduced the man with the scruffy, mousy brown beard littered with grays, dyed near his lips and down the middle from chewing tobacco, as Jim. He indroduced Chris as his ‘son on Thursdays’. Earlier in the week, a deal had been struck out of Chris’ earshot. Jim was now there move the camera. He volunteered for the job, and grinned admitting it. Jim took up residence on the bed’s far corner to watch the televised orgies, his burly shape making it impossible for him to sit with his legs together. Lou tore open a cardboard case and cracked open a can. He swilled half the can down in one drink. Lou took Chris strongly by his jaw, opting to feed his restrained babysitter a drink, rather than let Chris loose. The brand of beer was actually something that tasted worse than Lou’s cum, or perhaps explained the semen’s flavor, but Chris swallowed it all the same. Lou returned to stroking Chris’ inner thighs with fingers wet and cold from the can’s condensation. Jim was ordered to pick up the camera.

Lou’s faintly slicked hand closed around Chris’ shaft. He started stroking the boy in earnest. The fading erection Chris had been willing away rebuilt swiftly. Jim tremored the entire mattress, clamboring close to Chris’ side for a shot of how long the boy’s shaft was. A verbal estimate of eight inches was made. Jim smacked his lips over it, and chuckled deeply. The camera was traded from Jim’s right hand to left. Now freed, Jim’s right hand slipped between the blond boy’s thighs to cup his balls. Trapped between their fondling, Chris orgasmed. Both men laughed lowly. Lou looked into the lens and flickered his tongue against the boy’s cockhead. Jim panned further down for a close look at the white and translucent splatters along the boy’s shins and feet. Jim growled deep in his throat at the sight, muttering about being ready.

Lou took the camera from the man presumably more predator than hunter, filming Jim’s entire disrobing. His jacket pulled off of a solid olive-colored flannel shirt. As Jim unfurled his belt and stepped out of his pants, the shirttails covered anything Jim might possess. The shirt crept open button by button, revealing pink skin with the most hair Chris had ever seen on one man. Half of it was graying and made Jim look like he was built out of stacked steel wool biscuits. Beneath a gut wider than Lou’s, a semisoft erection poked up behind stretched white briefs. The underwear was quickly discarded, proving to Chris that Jim was no less hairy behind that fabric, either. The sheer amount of gray and brown hair at Jim’s crotch covered half the shaft, and made his dick appear shorter. As if the man’s girth wasn’t making it look disproportionate enough.

“See that thick nest, son? You’re gonna eat that bush and suck your uncle’s dick.”

First Grandpa, now Uncle Jim?

Chris couldn’t honestly say he was surprised. This was so not worth fifty dollars a week. Not anymore. Chris’ revulsion at the prospect was visible, but neither man cared. Jim sat on the bed’s edge and swung his legs up, scooting his ass across the covers to get closer to center and closer to Chris. He leaned escort bursa in a slump on the pillows and against the headboard. Jim’s legs lay spread like a frog dissection more out of necessity than showmanship. Chris wriggled upright on his knees, hands still cuffed behind him, to get the act done and over with.

“Hold on, baby. Suck up that beer for your uncle and pass it over. Can and all.”

Chris glanced at the endtable behind himself in slow aggravation. Manoeuvering again, Chris opened his mouth over the can’s rolled lip. Wider. Wider. Finally. Barely. The blond’s mouth slipped around the aluminum, and Chris sucked to grip it. Damn, even the fumes from this wastewater were musty. Chris raised up carefully, but the cylinder immediately slipped away. Its bottom hit the edge of the endtable. The can bounced, and its contents sprayed out in every direction. Mostly in the blond’s. Subdued laughter sounded around him. Unable to pick the rapidly spilling can up from the drenched carpeting, Chris was at a loss for what he was expected to do. Lou moved aside to help him out.

Another beer hissed open with a cold mist next to the boy’s face. Force fed again – the entire sixteen ounces this time – but reflex had Chris swallowing as fast as he could to avoid choking. Lou crunched the spent can in his hand with another bout of chuckling from the pair of older men. Unused to the alcohol, Chris’ mind began fuzzing at the edges. His brown eyes drooped just slightly, then closed. The blond wanted to cringe out of his own skin. The stench of the beer was burned into his nostrils, the liquid already turning sticky on his skin and soaking into the bed. Chris coughed the last of the beer out of his windpipe. He glimpsed Lou at the foot of the bed. Watching. Filming. Rubbing at his crotch. Jim scratched at his own, uttering a low, bear-like growl. Chris ignored a smattering of verbal prodding and cat calls. Hoping to get the ordeal over with, Chris turned, lowered and wrapped his lips around the head of Jim’s cock.

Chris was stopped, and reminded that the blowjob wasn’t his first assignment. The blond held his breath, not wanting to breathe in Jim’s musky scent. His soft tongue dragged broadly along half of the stranger’s matting of public hair. A few strands stuck to his tongue. Chris willed himself not retch from the sensation. He was ordered to bite at the much older man’s hairy crotch. To chew and munch the thick hair. To suck on Jim’s balls and their thin, crepe-like sack. At last, Chris was permitted to turn to the comparatively more pleasant task of licking Jim’s rock hard shaft. The thick undervein received the most extensive bathing. Jim gasped and twitched from the skills the young homosexual had learned on his weekly employer. Chris’ mouth again poised atop Jim’s cock, lowering to let the head push between his lips. Jim allowed it for around a minute, only to order the boy to another halt.

Lou passed his friend an unlabelled, generic plastic bottle. Jim pulled the top up, gave the vessel a squeeze, and summoned a thick, clear gel to drizzle in gobs into his palm. That hand circled Jim’s cock, stroking it slick for the pleasure Jim had been anticipating the most throughout the week.

Greasy hands reached up to grip the boy by his hips. Chris’ smooth, taut butt was pulled across Jim’s stomach, stopping in the middle where one shapely leg braced on the bed to either side of the man’s lap. One burly hand fondled the crease of Chris’ thigh. The other guided a purpled helmet between the boy’s cheeks. The lube was an alien sensation, causing the head to dive right into the eighteen-year-old’s ass. Chris let out an unexpectedly ecstatic moan, writhing his hips on Jim’s penetration. Jim rolled his pelvis up and down beneath the squirming boy. His cock slipped in and out of the eager rectum thickly and smoothly. The gel alone made it the best fuck Chris had ever had, and Lou voraciously filmed every second.

Jim began masturbating the young man. Every muscle in Chris’ legs visibly tensed. His feet whitened where the soles dug hard into the mattress’ give for any sort of hold. The lubrication coating Jim’s penis made strangely erotic squicking sounds as the shaft repeatedly disappeared into the blond. The heavy hair brushed and prickled against the boy’s testicles. Chris shouted highly. His second forced orgasm spit and trickled down Jim’s meaty fingers. The bear continued to sodomise his twink ‘nephew’ through post-climactic squeals and shudders. Minutes more, and Jim pulled out of Chris’ ass. A slippery hand grabbed his erection and stroked feverishly, until streams of creamy white splashed over the boy’s genitals. Chris panted loudly, trembling, while Lou taped the cum being rubbed and caressed into the skin of the boy’s crotch. The lube still on Jim’s hands made his babysitter’s intimate areas look suitably sleazy and irresistable for the camera.

“How’d you like that, you little bitch?”

Chris looked to the moment’s director wearily, pausing to suck the sperm off of the fingers Jim pushed into his mouth. The start of a smile crept cross his graceful, pouty lips.

“Uncle Jim fucks me even better than you do, daddy…”

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