Highway Hustle

by Roland Graeme

  Then I realized that I wasn’t dreaming, after all. I was in that twilight state halfway between sleeping and waking, and during it, while my consciousness was coming sluggishly back to life, I’d been reliving some of the sordid events which had taken place in the motel room during the previous night. I was remembering how, after Joey and I had double penetrated Mirco, the married man had wanted still more sex. Seemingly insatiable, he’d encouraged me to suck my brother’s cock. And then Mirco had begun sucking mine!

  Uh, you frigging pervert, you sex freak, I chastised myself. You sucked off your own kid brother. And that wasn’t the worst of it!

  Fully awake now, I saw I was in my own bed at the farmhouse. And I wasn’t alone. Joey’s warm, naked body was pressed against mine, under the covers. That’s right, I recalled. He came back here last night, after we were done taking care of Mirco, and we slept together.

  When I stirred, I inadvertently jostled my bedmate, who roused himself.

  “Oh—good morning, slut,” my brother greeted me.

  “Good morning, tramp,” I replied.

  Fraternal affection at its finest!

  “Jesus! I’ve got a bad case of morning wood,” Joey announced. “How about you?”

  “I’m suffering from my usual wakeup piss hard,” I admitted. “Guess I’d better haul my ass out of bed and get rid of it.”

  “No, wait. Why piss it away? Why waste it? I’ve got a much better idea. We’re both hard. Might as well take advantage of it. Want to fuck?”

  I was incredulous. “After last night—I can’t believe you’re horny again, so soon.”

  “I’m always horny. Aren’t you?”

  “There are limits. A guy has to get some rest, sometimes. And since when do you give it away for free?”

  He smirked at me. “I could ask you the same. Come on, Jason, be a sport. Last night was fun, but it was also a hell of a lot of hard work. Your buddy Mirco—I thought we’d never be able to satisfy the son of a bitch! He is a good tipper, though, just like you said he’d be. Let’s mess around a little right now, just for fun.” Without waiting for me to reply, let alone agree, he reached for the lube I kept on my nightstand. “We’re going to need this.”

  I gave in, as the conniving little slut no doubt was sure I would. Joey rolled over on top of me. His lips found mine and crushed against them with an almost brutal force, his thick tongue driving in deep between them. His body felt hot against mine when I pulled him down onto me, my arms locked as tightly around his back as his were around me. I felt the hardness of his potent young cock growing even more rigid against my belly as we kissed with total abandon, gasping for breath.

  My hands grabbed the covers and flung them away from our bodies, so that we lay nude and exposed on the bed. I ran my palms across his broad shoulders and down over the rippling muscles of his back. His ass cheeks were solid and tempting when I squeezed them. Joey let out a moan from deep down in his throat, and, still kissing me, he ground himself harder against me. The urgency of his demanding kiss and the swollen pressure of his cock against my own aching prick quickly aroused me to fever pitch. I pressed down firmly on my kid brother’s buttocks, wanting to join our bodies as tightly together as they could be.

  “Uh, Jason!” he groaned against my lips. “I want us to do it again. Like last night—only with just the two of us, this time.”

  “I want that, too. What, exactly do you want to do?”

  “I want to fuck you, bro.”

  “Okay.” I didn’t need to think about. He already had me so worked up that I probably would have denied him nothing.

  Our mouths met again, and this time the kiss we exchanged was even more passionate, more abandoned, our incestuous lust at full flood. Joey sucked on my tongue, drawing it out of my mouth and inside his own. I gasped for breath, feeling as though I might faint, but he offered me no respite, his mouth and his hands continuing to arouse me. My hands gripped his behind even more possessively, and our cocks pulsed away between our bodies, hard and hot and more than ready to be put to use.

  Abruptly, Joey broke our kiss and pulled away from me, his hands seizing my legs and spreading them apart. He got between them, positioning himself on his knees. Using the lube, he greased up his dick. Then, leaning over me, he began to slide his mouth over my abs, licking them. I thought he was going to suck my cock, but my precocious kid brother had something else in mind. His lips nuzzled my prickshaft and his tongue swabbed it, but just for a tantalizing moment, before he moved his mouth lower, to my balls, licking them. Then he pushed his face down lower still, to my perineum muscle, licking that ridge of muscle which connected my testicles to my anal opening. Joey’s hands tightened their grip on my legs and he lifted them.

  He bent my legs in against my chest until my knees touched my pecs and my ass cheeks were high off the bed. His head darted in toward my butt, and I jumped when he felt the wet heat of his lips rub over my asshole.

  “Going to get this hole ready for my cock,” he mumbled.

  His mouth ground against my asshole. I felt his tongue poke out from between his lips, and it began to lick my ass crack, wetting it thoroughly as Joey allowed the drool of his saliva to run over my flesh. I jumped and squirmed while his tongue teased me.

  He began rimming me for real, no longer teasing me, but drilling his tongue deep into my anus. Shamelessly, hungrily, he licked the smooth, slick flesh which lined the interior of my manhole. My ass quaked and shivered around his invading tongue.

  After long minutes of dedicated ass eating, Joey pulled his face back out from between my butt cheeks. Hoisting me legs higher and resting them on his shoulders, he got ready to penetrate me with his cock, instead of his tongue.

  He had such a wild, lustful look on his handsome young face that I suspected I was in for a rough fuck. Nervously, I tried to push him away with my hands, but he brushed them roughly aside.

  “Promise me you’ll go slow,” I begged.

  “Since when do you need a guy to go easy on you? Who do you think you’re fooling with this ass shy act?” he demanded. “Everybody in town’s had you. To say nothing of all those visitors, just passing through, who know a good cum dump when they see one. Now it’s my turn. I’m going to have you, too!”

  I made an effort to shove him aside again, but it was already too late. I yelped when I felt him lunge forward and the thick swollen head of his cock began to enter my ass.

  It was useless to object or to try to fight him off. The horny little bastard was hellbent upon screwing me, and nothing was going to stop him. The look of lustful determination on his face, the firm grip of his hands holding my wrists down on the mattress, the steady pressure of his cock forcing its way deep into me—all of these things told me that I might as well just lie there and take it, and try to enjoy it. If I could!

  There was a good deal of pain at first, maybe because I hadn’t prepared myself mentally for being fucked. Joey was hung big—like me, if I may say so without being accused of bragging. His dick was nice and fat, and long. When he rammed it into me I felt the walls of my anal tunnel stretch and spasm in response, resisting the invasion. But not for long. He pressed himself insistently against my body, and, inch by inch, he shoved his huge cock up my ass until he had it all the way in me. He let out a moan of satisfaction, which I echoed, because my pain was ebbing away and being replaced by a familiar sense of pleasure. Joey’s body slumped forward on top of mine. His face, shoulders, and chest glistened with a fine sheen of perspiration.

  “Oh, yeah,” he gloated. “I’m in you all the way, now. This is what I’ve wanted to do for a long time—fuck my stud big brother’s butch ass!”

  “All right, you bitch,” I growled at him. “Now that you’ve raped me, don’t stop now. Don’t go just halfway. Finish the job. Fuck me! Let’s see just how much of a man you are!”

  He proceeded to give me a vivid demonstration of just that. I squeezed my anal muscles, and that was all it took to transform the last, lingering twin
ges of discomfort into delight. By doing that, by straining exactly as though I was trying to take a shit, I increased not only Joey’s pleasure, but mine.

  “That’s it, bro!” Joey exclaimed. “Work that ass! Bear down on me. Fuck yourself on my prick. Oh, that feels good—that really feels good! You’re a hot fuck.”

  “You bet it am,” I told him. “You’ve still got a long way to go, boy, before you’ll be as good a man whore as I am!”

  He giggled. But then he became serious again, concentrating on the no-nonsense business of pounding my butt. I groaned repeatedly as he took me. There was a steady, rhythmic convulsive reaction going on in my rectum in response to his thrusts. My prostate was being treated to quite a deep massage. My hole was on fire with lust!

  “Uh, yeah, this is some damn fine fucking,” Joey gasped, rearing slowly back onto his haunches, and then attacking my anus from a slightly different, but equally effective, angle. “What an ass!”

  His prick jackhammered into me, the thick shaft driving in deep and hard, until I could feel the impact vibrating through my rectum.

  “Best ass in town,” he praised.

  “That’s what all the guys say,” I retorted.

  “We should’ve started doing this long ago.”

  “Well, we’re sure as hell making up for lost time, now!”

  Joey grimaced. “Aw, fuck! I’m getting there. Fast! Can’t stop it. Can’t hold it back!”

  “Neither can I,” I told him, as I masturbated. “I’m going to come soon. You come, too, Joey,” I begged him. “Come in me!”

  “Oh, yeah, bro—I’m going to! Goddamn it, am I ever going to!”

  Suddenly, his hand swooped down and he knocked my hand away. He caught my cock firmly in his own fist. Taking over the brisk hand job I’d begun, he proceeded to masturbate me with violent strokes, which was just what I wanted at that moment of furious erotic need. While he jerked me, his own dick continued to piston itself in and out of my asshole.

  “You come, now, too,” he grunted. “Come when I do!”

  “I will,” I gasped. I suspected that I would have ejaculated even if I hadn’t played with myself, even if he hadn’t touched my cock. I was so sexed up, so maddened by lust, so on edge, that I would have exploded spontaneously. But his rough fisting of my cock was like pulling the trigger and firing my phallic gun.

  “I can’t hold it back,” he lamented.

  “I can’t, either!” I cried.

  “Shit—couple of brother-loving, brother-fucking whores—that ass of yours—coming!” Joey shouted.

  I felt him burst deep inside my ass. The hot, burning torrent of his cum poured out into me, his cock quivering and unloading. The thrill of knowing that my own kid brother was breeding and seeding me intensified the purely physical sensations, and together it was more than I could stand. I reached my own sexual crisis.

  I shot off hard and fast, my cum flying from my cock like a stream of liquid bullets, spraying onto Joey’s muscular chest and running in sluggish trickles down from his pecs and over his abs. I kept firing, losing one thick white jet of semen after another.

  “Fuck, yeah, bro!” he yelled. “Come on me! Empty it all out, man! Shoot that hot shit all over me!”

  I didn’t hold back. Hell, I could’ve have, by that point, even had I wanted to. I inundated his torso with my hot sperm. By the time I was finished ejaculating, I’d streaked his body with a dozen wet rivulets of my cum. But even then I didn’t want the fuck to stop. I tightened my ass possessively around his still-rigid bulk, and I clamped down on it even harder when I felt him begin to pull his cock out of my hole.

  “No,” I insisted. “Keep it in me! Don’t pull out yet.”

  He grinned, and he leaned forward to kiss me passionately on the mouth. “You like having that big dick in you, do you?”

  “You bet I do.”

  “Guess you don’t think what we’re doing is all that sinful, then, after all.”

  I groaned. “Let’s just leave the whole idea of sin out of it, okay? It’s a little late to start worrying about that now. I won’t bring it up again if you don’t.”

  “Deal.”

  Manfully, he continued to hump me, giving me a good post-orgasm anal massage. At last, though, I took pity on him, and I let him ease his dick out of my well-used hole.

  I felt wrecked, but Joey was still bursting with energy, despite the way he’d exerted himself on my behalf.

  “I’m hungry,” Joey declared. “I’m going to jump in the shower, while you get breakfast started.”

  “Oh, that’s the plan, is it? First I’m supposed to put out for you and let you fuck my ass. Now you expect me to wait on you hand and foot?”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  “I’m the older,” I reminded him. “You ought to at least pretend to have some respect for me. And—ah—if we’re going to do again what we did last night—you know, turn tricks together?”

  “Of course we are. Why shouldn’t we? Looks like we have a good thing going for us, to me.”

  “I agree, but—then I’m going to be the boss. You know, the dominant one, the decision maker, in this partnership.”

  Joey grinned at me. “We can discuss that over breakfast. I’ll have my eggs over easy, please.”

  He headed toward the bathroom. And, grumbling, I made my way downstairs, to the kitchen—like a dutiful little househusband!

  Later on that Sunday afternoon, I got a call from Vernon. He and Faye would be driving through our area again in a week, so naturally they wanted to hire my services.

  “I’ve got somebody here who I know you’d really like to meet,” I said. “Instead of a threesome—how’d you like to make it a foursome, this time?”

  Vernon and Faye jumped at that offer, of course.

  After all, ever since we were kids, Joey and I had helped out with the family business, the motel. Our parents had instilled a work ethic in us. Now we’d set up a second, separate business, just the two of us. We were still keeping it in the family.

  Epilogue: Get Gas, Food, Lodging—and More

  Neither Joey nor I was working at the motel one night. We decided to go to the diner to get a bite to eat.

  Although we had food, not sex, on our minds at the moment, the fact was that the diner could be a pretty good pickup spot—provided the guys who were looking for a hookup were discreet. A lot of eye contact and subtle cruising went on among the customers. More than once, my brother and I had found a john there.

  On this occasion, we didn’t even have to try to drum up some business for ourselves. Our john more or less fell into our laps.

  The diner was crowded that night. There was a short queue of customers waiting to be seated. Apologetically, the waitress said that she just to clear off a few of the booths, and then she’d be able to seat everybody.

  “The food must be good here,” the man standing in line ahead of us remarked.

  “It is,” I assured him.

  He had “traveler who’d just turned off the interstate” written all over him, to my experienced eyes. But, in addition, he reeked of masculinity—the kind of rough-edged manliness which was by no means incompatible with same-sex inclinations. Some instinct told me the guy liked to play around with other men.

  A typical Italian-American stud, he was a six-foot-four hunk with a big, muscular frame, and, despite his forty-odd years, there wasn’t an ounce of fat on him. He had straight, black hair swept neatly back over a broad forehead—so neatly that, as I looked at him, my fingers already itched to muss it.

  He had a dark, swarthy complexion, and I suspected his body was very hairy. His clothes, jeans and a sweatshirt, both loose-fitting, didn’t reveal too much. They teased, only hinting at the fleshly pleasures which might be available, once this man was stripped naked.

  His eyes looked dark from a distance, at first, almost black, but they were actually a warm, sensuous brown when seen at close range. His nose had been broken at least once, and it showed, the sli
ght crookedness of his schnozz saving his face from mere bland handsomeness, giving him an aura of rugged, even coarse, masculinity instead. He had a mouth which excited me, too, the full red lips pursed under a thick but neatly trimmed mustache as black as his hair. His square jaw suggested determination and a strong will. A well-stuffed basket and a body that just wouldn’t quit completed the prize package.

  In short, the son of a bitch was one hell of a stereotypical, macho Italian-American stud, and just looking at him always made my mouth water, as I fantasized about tasting the dude’s big, thick, spicy salami. I was hungry. I had been looking forward to stuffing my face with some of the diner’s filling food. Now, though, I was also speculating about the possibility of satisfying other hungers, other lusts, before the night was over.

  “She’s doing a good job of clearing those booths,” the guy reported, as he watched the waitress at work. “It shouldn’t be long, now.”

  Surreptitiously, to get Joey’s attention, I gave him a quick pat on his perky ass, through the seat of his pants.

  “I’ve got an idea,” I said, mock casually, after I goosed my kid brother. “Instead of taking up two booths—how’d you like to share one with us, sir? That’ll leave one free for other customers.”

  “Good idea, considering how busy they seem to be here. If you guys really don’t mind—?” the stranger asked.

  “Oh, we don’t mind, not at all,” Joey said, jumping right in and agreeing with me. He knew what I was thinking. “In fact, we insist. We’d enjoy having your company, sir. We like talking to out-of-towners. This is a very friendly place.”

  Yeah, I thought. And this dude may soon find out just how friendly it is!

  The three of us were soon seated in a booth. Introductions were made. The visitor’s name was Bruno—very Italian-American, just as I’d suspected.