Lot Lizard

A growing boy needs many things, the least of which is money. Sure, most young teens don't really need to pay rent or bills, but a bit of spending money on hand is always nice. Thomas certainly thought so, the 13-year old lizard standing in front of a mirror in his room. On him was a pair of tight jeans, and a white t-shirt just a tad too small for him, his green midriff peeking out. He turned and twirled, trying to look at his body from all angles. He struck a few poses, first trying to look as innocent as possible, casting his gaze to the ground in faux-embarrassment while wrapping his long tail around his legs, next trying a pose of pure confidence, putting on his best come-hither look while seductively leaning on his writing table. Thomas had learned the tricks of the trade rather well, starting his apprenticeship of the streets only about a month ago. He'd learned to see which customers respond well to what sort of act, which of them want a soft-eyed virginal doe and which of them want a cumslut. Whether it be a pent-up truck driver, a young guy in a particularly experimental mood, or just a desperate husband, everyone's got a "thing", some feature or aspect they're looking for, something that Thomas hoped to exploit to increase his earnings. Of course, a teenage boy selling himself already separates him from the group a fair amount, for better and for worse. People say that any press is good press when it comes to business, but the constant run-ins with the law, and the subsequent "community-service", generally left him quite sore and needing a good bath. On the other hand, he does fill quite a niche, or more appropriately filling him is quite a niche. And that does bring in a good amount of revenue when compared to the bog-standard corner hooker. Thomas fidgeted with his wear a bit more, before grabbing a backpack already filled with the main tools of the industry: a couple boxes of condoms, a good amount of lube, and a heavy helping of wet wipes for easy clean-up. His parent's were out doing some late-night shopping, them only thinking that he'd go and spend the evening hanging out with his friends. He'd be back sometime in the early hours of the morning most likely, his parents surely in bed by then. He took one more moment to limber up, stretching his arms and back, his slender frame bending easily, before stepping out. 

On a Friday night like this, Thomas's favourite business front was a gas station lot off to the side of the city, the place mostly serving as a refuelling and resting stop for truck drivers rather than the smaller traffic. He walked to the far side of the parking lot, further away from the gas station itself, and sat down next to a light post, setting his backpack on the ground next to him. He relaxed, trying to nail a slightly sultry look as he watched the trucks going in and out. All he had to do now was wait, and his customers would come rolling in. Not fifteen minutes later, a truck parked up at a spot right next to Thomas's curb. A sly smile growing on his face, and money on his mind, he hopped up and walked towards the truck. He could see the man inside from the reflection of the door mirror, a large doberman, a red trucker cap slouched on his face and a white wife-beater on him. What Thomas was most interested in studying was the man's face, the client's look generally gave out what sort they were a sucker for, what made them pull out their wallets the fastest. This one had a half-stern, half-shameful look about him, probably just someone driving all throughout the night and needing a fast bit of relief, a no-nonsense sort. Based on that, Thomas skipped all the pleasantries, simply hopping up to the step on the driver side door, leaning in: "Looking for relief?", Thomas asked, waiting for a few seconds. The dog didn't reply, just glancing at him, "A handjob is 25 euros, blowjob's 50. If you want to fuck me, that's a hundred, twenty extra without rubber. And all prices are upfront." The doberman stared ahead for a few more seconds, before nodding towards the passenger side door. Thomas hopped down, circled around the truck, and clambered into the cabin.

The truck had a smell of cigarettes and sweat, a few empty cartons and paper coffee cups strewn on the floor. The dog had sleek and short black fur, brown spots on his muzzle and above his eyes. His shirt had a couple of minor stains on it, but his grey cargo pants were relatively clean at least. All-in-all, not the worst Thomas had seen for sure. The man reached into a holder on the door, pulling out a tattered black leather wallet. From it he pulled out a 50€ note, handing it to Thomas. The boy grabbed the money, stuffing it into his backpack. As he was doing so, the man unbuttoned his pants, pulling them down enough to reveal his fat sheath, the red tip of his cock already peeking out. He tried to relax somewhat, leaning back and resting his hands on the windowsill and the back of the chairs, but his gaze kept scanning the parking lot and the stern look still persisted on his face. Ready to get to work, Thomas scooted nearer to the man, licking his lips before bending over into the dog's lap. He wrapped a hand around the sheath, moving the other to fondle and massage his balls, slipping the tip into his warm mouth. He heard a strong exhale coming from the driver as he coaxed the canine cock fully out, moving between slobbering the shaft with his long tongue and slipping the tip into his mouth. His hand was still working on the base, feeling the knot growing. Finally he gobbled up the cock, steadily shoving more of it down his muzzle, wrapping his long tongue around it, until eventually his nose thudded against the man's pubic fur. Salty precum flowed into his mouth in steady pulses, the driver starting to huff and pant. His tongue licked and worked on the knot, it soon pushing free of the sheath. Taking one last deep breath of air, he swallowed as much of the cock as he possibly could, fighting back his gag reflex as he felt it hit the back of his throat. The man put his hand on Thomas's head, grunting and moaning as his knot throbbed, a rope of cum shooting straight down into the boy's stomach. It was followed immediately by several more shots of sticky, salty cum, coating his throat and mouth entirely in seconds. He did his best to keep inhaling through his nose, as well as swallowing the cum getting pumped into his gullet. Few seconds later, the doberman was finally finishing up, the loads of cum shooting off more and more infrequently, until it was reduced to just a small trickle. Thomas swallowed one last time, before slowly pulling the cock out, trying not to make too much of a mess. A mess of some scale was inevitable though, the sheer volume of sperm causing some to dribble out and smear across the man's crotch, shirt, and pants. The cock dislodged with an audible slurp, Thomas licking his lips and hands to clean the worst of the mess. The man stayed silent as Thomas slid back towards the door, grabbing up his backpack and hopping out. "Thank you for your patronage!", he shouted at the dog before slapping the door closed, hearing the driver mutter out a quiet thanks in return. Thomas returned to his post, out of curiosity studying the doberman as he seemingly picked up some paper towels from the floor of his cabin and cleaned himself up, at least as much as he could. Thomas followed suit, wanting to remain presentable to his next client, knowing the night was far from over. He got a few wet wipes from his backpack, wiping off his hands, muzzle, and pits. Once he was done with his refreshing, he sat back down, surveying the lot for his next potential client as the satisfied doberman drove off. 

Waiting for a customer can be a real pain in the ass (though occasionally what comes afterwards can be an even bigger one, literally speaking): you need to exude an air of eroticism, constantly look like you'd be the best god-damn pick in the whole world if a guy were to want his balls milked, but you've got to do that while just sitting around. An uninterested looking hooker just doesn't sell. Well, to this audience a fleshlight nailed to a post would probably be more than enough, but Thomas didn't want to take any chances when it came to money, he was nothing if not a shrewd businessman, even if his business was a bit unorthodox. So for about twenty minutes he tried his best to look sultry whenever a truck came into the lot, spending the downtime fiddling with his phone. Finally, another truck pulled up to him, the driver beaconing him to the window. Thomas swayed his hips as he walked, the skin-tight jeans leaving very little to imagination. Out of the truck's window leaned an opossum, a grin on his face and one of his hands already suspiciously moving about near his crotch. "How much for ya' ass, honey?", the opossum asked in a slightly gritty voice. "100 euros, 120 if you're going bare.", Thomas said with a wink, turning around and giving his backside a quick wiggle to punctuate his words, his tail slowly sweeping the air. "Hop in!", came a shout, Thomas circling around, his footsteps tapping against the pavement. 

As he opens the door to the cabin, a wave of musky sweat hits him on the nose, similar to the night's first driver, but this one having a much more pointedly sexual scent to it. The opossum already had his jeans open, a hand tugging at the rock-hard cock, beads of precum dripping from the tip. He stops long enough to pull a wallet from his pocket, fishing out 120€ and handing them to the boy, a small spot of precum staining the notes from his dirty hand. Thomas didn't particularly mind, even dirty money was still money. He stuffed the notes into his backpack, before unbuttoning his pants, the opossum sitting back and enjoying the small strip show while resuming jerking off. Thomas pulled off his pants and underwear entirely, knowing these situations tended to get quite messy. From his backpack he produced a small bottle of lube, giving the bottle a few shakes before moving over to sit next to the man. The driver moved his hand off of his cock, giving the boy space to work. With a small pop, the lube bottle's cap opened, Thomas upending it over the cock, the clear fluid slowly coating it entirely, a small hiss coming from the opossum on account of the sudden cold liquid. The boy started working the lube in, giving the cock a few strokes from tip to base, while also standing up and bending over lightly. Once satisfied with the coating on the cock, he moved his hand, still dripping with lube, towards his behind, lifting his tail to let two fingers slide into his hole, them slipping in with ease. The opossum watched, mesmerized, as the boy moved to stand over him, a hand guiding his cock to the asshole, his whole length disappearing inside in one smooth move. The driver moaned and groaned as Thomas got to work, riding the opossum's cock with enthusiasm, sliding his asshole up and down, occasionally clenching and tightening to milk him nice and dry. Though he didn't really want to show it too much, he was getting quite aroused by the assfucking as well, his slit opening to let the teen's tip peek out. He did enjoy his job, and not just because of the money, usually jacking off and shooting his load onto the pavement after his customers had dried out for the night. It generally wasn't good form to enjoy himself while pleasing a customer, unless the customer asked him to do so. He was there solely for the enjoyment of the customer after all. With this one however, something just hit him differently. Maybe it was because he hadn't cum in a couple of days, school and social life keeping him rather busy during the week, but the opossum gripping his sides while drilling his asshole, a faint taste of the last customer's cum still lingering in his mouth, it was all just having a rather drastic effect on the boy. His cock was completely hanging free of his sheath, flopping up and down as he bounced on the driver's lap, flinging streaks of precum onto the truck's dashboard. Eventually the pressure was just too much, Thomas letting out a moan as he spurted cum all over the floor and the man's legs. His asshole twitched and spasmed, massaging the length inside. Within seconds the opossum was on the verge of orgasm as well, not being able to handle the new assault on him. 

Thomas could feel the hot cum pumping into his colon, now dripping from both sides. The seed coated his ass inside and out, much of it dripping down onto the driver's crotch. The man slumped down on his seat, huffing and panting. Meanwhile Thomas carefully lifted himself up, doing his best to clench to hopefully keep things clean. It was a partial success, a few spurts of cum still leaking out onto the floor and all over the man's jeans. He was too out of it to care however, his tongue hanging out of his mouth, chest rising and falling rapidly. Another customer satisfied, Thomas pulled on his jeans, not even bothering to put on his underwear quite yet, he'd have to do some cleaning first. As he opened the door to leave, he could see the opossum stuffing his cock, still slick with lube and a generous coating of cum, into his pants, zipping them up. I suppose he wasn't too preoccupied with cleanliness. Hopping down, Thomas made his way to the edge of the parking lot, giving a quick wave to the opossum as the truck drove off. He did his best to still clench, walking like he'd just shit his pants. He sneaked into a small line of bushes, pulling his pants down and squatting. With just a gentle push, what must have been litres of cum flowed out of him with an audible splurt, a puddle forming on the grass below. Feeling much lighter, and thanking God that he didn't have any fur to clean up, he once again fished out a few wet wipes, mopping off the worst of the cum still sticking to his asscheeks and thighs. Now that he was clean again, relatively so at least, Thomas surveyed the lot. Most of the trucks had already vacated, the night almost starting to turn into morning. He yawned as the tiredness hit him, having spent the whole evening working. He decided to pack up for the night, most likely he wouldn't attract any more customers this night anyway. He slung his backpack onto his shoulder, starting his walk back home, one last drip of cum snaking its way down his pant leg.