I was going to be visiting my family down south. They lived pretty off to the side; nearly off the grid. They've invited me to come over for a family gathering, pretty much everyone was going to be there. Aunt Fletcher, Grandpa Orville, even my brother, Xavier, was finally going to be coming back from out of the country. The location isn't ideal, but everywhere else we could hold the event would either have too little space or have people phone in noise complaints; most of which had both those problems. Thoughts of reunion filled my mind as I hauled the rental car over the wooden bridge, creaking as rubber met the puddled surface. The rain poured hard. The tapping sound on the roof of the car held needless anticipation and proved hard to drown out, especially in my subconscious. Lines and lines of leafed foliage creeped in from the sides of the dirt road, only being lit from the car's headlights. At night, this place is pitch black. The GPS, vibrating from the rocky surface being traveled over, flashed the 'no signal' popup over and over, like it's been doing it since I began the drive. I have no idea where the place is. The car did come with a map of the area, but they only had paved roads marked. "Drat." I whisper to myself, noticing the lack of signal on the machine. "Best just continue." And so I did; for about twelve feet. That was when my tire popped out of the socket. I *would* continue scraping the front bumper against the mud, but I'd be surcharged if they found the car like that. With only my phone and car keys in my pocket, I step out of the car. The mud was about a half inch deep, enveloping most of my shoe' sole. It was hard to walk in, each step trying to be prevented by the slime-like mass. I ended up having to use my phone battery as a light to even see what happened. All It looked like was a loose bolt, or a faulty axle. I couldn't tell which. So, without much hope for my own, I head forwards, hoping their house was right around the corner. — It wasn’t, but there was light. I flickered, assuming it was a fire. It smelt a little like it, through the rain. It was an oil lamp, still lit on a small cabin's porch. The smoke smell came from the man in the rocking chair, enjoying the atmosphere and a half-full glass of alcohol. "Excuse me." I call out to him, given my lack of options. The man tilts up his trucker hat, and pulls the dart out of his mouth. "Hein?" He responds. "Can you help me with my car?" I stand in the rain, soaked already. "Come up here, I can't hear youse." He says, starting to stand up. I trekked through the mud, until I started to track it on the wood. "My car lost one of it's wheels." "An' you thought gettin' around a place like 'is was fine withouta spare?" He says through the heavy scent of gin. "Could you come look at it?" I sound desperate. "Ain't got much goin' on, 'spose it won't hurt." He replies before following me down the steps, and lighting a flashlight to see. Once we made it to the car (which wasn't too far away) he crouched down, getting his pants all muddy from having his knees in the mud. "Looks like all 'em bolts popped on out." He says, sifting through the mud to pull out one. "Find the rest of 'ese, I gotta get that doohickey for bolts inside." Promptly he leaves. I do have changes of clothes, but I'm reluctant to duck down. I could maybe spot a few, but shining my light on the ground always resulted in something else being there, unexpectedly. — It's been a while since I last saw the guy. I've since been able to find only two of the bolts, the rest seem s.o.l. So, I return back to the cottage, and see that the lights were on inside. In a drift of courage I didn't know I had, I knock on the door. The sounds of rustling and metal clanging emitted from beyond the door, then a response. "Come on in." The door, unlocked, required a bit of force to open, the hinges had rusted like crazy. Through the doorway was a small living room, where junk filled each corner. This place looked like a hoarders house, but instead everything was in it's proper place. What stood out, though, was the giant ass of the man who was helping you. He was crouched over, looking through a cardboard box. Some seemingly random stuff was thrown to the side. Under the good lighting, you could finally see who was helping you: an 8 foot tall scolipede, wearing a stained white t-shirt and tattered green jeans, muddied from the outside. He was muscular, and generously proportioned at that. His trucker hat, now turned backwards, had a worn red colour to it, with the front being in a distressed off-white. His exoskeleton shined like it was a polished trophy under the room's light. "Can't remember for tha life of me where that thingy is." He says, pulling a hula doll from out of the box. I just stared. I don't know if he was oblivious that his ass was pointed right towards me, but he shook it smoothly while checking the box. "Uhm," I try to sound like I'm paying attention, "is there anywhere else you might have the tool?" "Nah. Already checked everywhere else." He turns to face me, looking beyond his own ass. "Some critter had oughta swiped it." Just as he finished speaking, he started to shovel the pile of things back into the box. "Nothing?" I ask. "Yup. Whole lot of it too." He stands up with the filled box, turning around to face me anew. "We can go to Mike's t'marrow, surely they've got em' bolts on sale." "Tomorrow? What time is it?" "Quarter past one." He says, expecting me to understand the weird way of speech immediately. "Oooh. Well. I can go sleep in the car, then." I start to leave, before he lays a hand on my shoulder to stop me. "I've got a second mattress Ion't use." He offers. "I'm fine." "No, you'd catch a cold out 'ere, can't be the best. For you an' your road trip." He sounds a little forceful. "Well, if you insist." I say, a little uncertain of his true intentions. He was a complete stranger after all. As he turns to another room he signals me to come inside. As I follow him through the door, he shows me a surprisingly clean mattress propped up on the wall, at least in contrast to his own. "Thing's only been used once. You can sleep in 'ere." He pulls the mattress down, and throws a cover over it. "Make yerself at home." Without much explanation, he starts to leave. "Aren't you going to sleep as well? It's one in the morning." I express my own concern. "Ah, the raccoon out the back's gonna finger some way in the fridge. Just going ta check it." He says, making his way out. Now that he was no longer in the room, I lie down on the mattress prepared for me. Abovehead was a ceiling fan, not spinning. It wasn't directly over either of our mattresses. Cobwebs lined the corners here and there. The pattering of the raindrops against the house created an etheral atmosphere, one that lulled me to sleep nearly instantly. — Creak. I wake up. Still nighttime. Time had passed; the sun wasn't up yet. I considered it for a second, that maybe I never slept. But the fact that the rain stopped was an undeniably concrete answer to that question. The door opens to the room. The lights were off both inside the room and beyond it. "Who's there?" I say. "You're up now? Did I wake you?" The voice sounded familiar, and then I knew who it was immediately when they turned on the lights. What greeted me was the same man from before. He wasn' wearing his hat, nor his shirt. The muscles, which used to be bound underneath the thin layer of cotton, now rocked the world in their full glory. What was stranger, though, was that he also wasn't wearing pants or underwear. He had let all of himself free; balls hanging and cock sheathed. "Ay, what's wrong?" He continues. "Where's, uh, your clothes?" I say, staring at his balls, which were nearly the size of my head. "Don't sleep with em'." He sounds confused. "We're both guys, so I thought you'd be fine with it." "I mean, I am," I kind of lied. I'm fine with it because he's attractive, "I just didn't expect it." “Well, best get sleep then.” He nearly jumps onto his mattress, which was just to the side. “Night.” “Actually,” I say in a desperate attempt to spend more time with him like this, “I can’t sleep. I’m really awake now.” “‘Spose we can talk about stuff.” He leans upright, seated on his mattress. “Where’d you come from anyways?” “Oh, I’m on vacation from the city, visiting family.” “And they live all the way out here?” “Yeah. Moved away from the suburb. I’m supposed to be visiting them tomorrow for a lil get-together.” “Ah, ‘burb crowds are fine. It’s really em’ neer-do-wells in the skyscrapers n’ such that tick me off. Go on, though.” “It’s my dad’s place,” I say, starting to stare off a little, “he lives just a little further down the road. Maybe you’ve met him, maybe you haven't.” “Ah, good ol’ Buck? I’ve talked to ‘im time to time, he’s a real womaniser, that one.” He replies as if he was reminiscing. “I can’t help but feel a little jealous of that guy. He’s got good looks; not much like this bug that lives down the way.” He laughs at himself after that remark. “Well, have you been to his place yet? I haven’t.” I half-try to disregard that last comment of his. “Well, you’re his son, I reckon?” “Mhm.” I respond affirmatively. “Cute piece of work he put in to get you.” He inspects me a little, from afar. “Regardless, I haven’t been. There’s always a batchelor’s party happening over there. I’d rather not be surrounded by so much women at once.” “More of a one-on-one type of person?” “Really it’s more one-on-none,” he chuckles a little, “unattractive people like me have to come and understand they’re going to be spending their lives alone.” “I call bullshit, really.” “What? Whaddya mean?” he returns back to a relaxed pose. “You’re sculpted, you’re tall, I’m pretty sure your ass is three times the size of your head, and, above all, your junk’s massive. I don’t get why you think you get no-one.” “Men just don’t want to be around someone who downs a bottle of gin a day, and reeks of it.” “Men?” I try to look shocked, but I end up looking more in the middle of intrigued and surprised. “Don’t tell me you’re one of em’ homophobes I’ve been hearin’ so much about.” He turns away, crossing his arms a little. “No, no, I just… “ I pause a little, trying to to say anything that reveals my feelings. “ I just thought it was unexpected, with you mentioning women and stuff.” “Yer cheeks are red. You’re blushing, ain’t ya?” “Fuck, okay, I am. Ever since I layed eyes on you I wanted you so bad.” “I guess I’ve gotta say the same for myself. You wanna share a mattress, go right ahead. Bet you could fall asleep fast in a bug’s warm embrace.” “I’ll take you up on that. Mind if I, I don’t know, slip into something a little more comfortable?” I get up to approach him, starting to fold off my shirt. “I’d love to see every inch of you, sport.” He made the initiative to give me a pet name. As I slip into his arms, leaving him free to spoon me, I kick my underwear off, leaving me as free as he was. The texture of his body as it fully envelopes me was heavenly, the smooth plates pure bug muscle urged me to feel more of it’s charm, all the while making for a much better blanket than any fabric could ever. While he did still smell of gin and rainwater, it was easily excusable as good atmosphere to be in, as crickets chirped from outside. Quickly, I am fully charmed by the man, and cannot remain awake for any longer. — I wake up to the cacophony of forest birds chirping and squawking from outside the window. I feel the warmth of the man I slept with still, but with something added between my legs. It pulsated, and sounded liquidy. Like if a mass of meat suddenly gained life. It was, in fact, not gross or horrific, though, as it was the scolipede’s thick member, which seemed to have raged hard for a long while, as a good pool of pre floods the floor of the room like a broken bathroom faucet. Quickly, my own morning wood develops. I contemplated just starting to service him, right then and there. I didn’t want him to wake up and reject it, so I just stayed put in his unmoving arms, waiting for some kind of response from him when he wakes. “Nngh.” He moves a bit, awake. “Made a bit of a mess, it seems.” I notify that I’m awake and he should not crush me, given one wrong move and I’m under him, fully. “Oh, brother. Not this again…” He responds still dazed. “Again?” “Yeah.” He nudged me a little to the side to rest upwards. “Fat nutsack means you leak a little too much when excited. Doc’s tells me I’ve also got a weird genetic condition, so I leak even more than I should.” “So you’re just a fountain?” “I wouldn’ word it like ‘at,but sure.” He fully gets up now. “An’ that's why I sleep in the nude.” The full length of his erect cock passes over me, still throbbing and leaking. It starts to pool on my stomach. I sit up, to make my head underneath the leakage. “I can help you with your faucet. Looks like a big problem to me.” “My faucet ain’t broke, sport.” He says, missing the point. “Your faucet, silly.” I prod the bottom of his tip gentilly. “Ah, haha. I wouldn’t mind. Open wide.” He lifts me up to stand upright, putting me standing at a perfect blowjob height. Without hesitance, I begin by licking the tip. Cleaning it of all of the hot pre that’s been funelling out. He tastes salty, still, but exquisite. Like his cum’s been garnished with a little extra pizzaz. I can’t help but continue. “You’re a plumber, sport.” He grabs the back of my head. “Not a maid, so you shouldn’t be cleaning up spills.” He then pushes my head further in, releasing it around halfway in his length. I was maybe seven inches in, I can’t identify it properly, though. Regardless, I guzzle him, ah he stares down and watches. “Look at sport go. Like a professional.” His eyes roll upwards in pure euphoria, as his pent up cock continues to throb and leak in my mouth. It’s clear this guy doesn’t give much attention to his prized assets. He lays a hand softly on the back of my head, moving me even further in. i was practically kissing his hips, full length in. I could now, confidently say that he was 18 inches long. My throat was on fire, stretched to accompany every bit of him in me. And it was all going to strain more. “I’m gonna cum, man.” He now holds another grip on the back of my head, both hands keeping me in position. Even if I wanted to pop his cock out, I wouldn’t be able to. Too bad I was ready for a flood gate of pure bug spunk. And, soon it followed. It all rushed down what little length of my throat was left, into my stomach. I could feel it bulge out a little. As soon as I felt too full, he revokes his force, and slides all of himself out. Yet, he was still pumping full loads. “Not too shabby for my first time, wouldn’ you say?” He sounded out of breath. “You were a virgin?” I look up, through all of the cum that was on my face. “Doesn’t matter now. Glad I could lose it to a real sport like you.” He then picks me up. “Best get you washed now, don’t want you going around lookin’ like ‘at.” — “So, you’re off then?” “Yeah,” I respond to him. “My family’s probably worried about me. Still no signal out here.” “Oh, right, you can’t just call em’.” He leans in closer from my car’s open window. He looks down, disappointed. “What’s wrong? You‘re awfully silent.” “Am I gonna see you again, sport?” He turns back up to look at me, eyes watering. “We can trade numbers. What’d you say your name was?” “Hah, about that.” He looks off again. “Huh?” “I can’t remember my name at all.” He looks back at me, giving a fake smile. “Just call me Bud, that’s what your dad calls me.” “Alright. I’ll text you when I can, Bud.” “You can’t, actually. I’ve only got this old rotary phone. Still works, though.” “I’ll call you then.” I caress his cheek a little, before giving him a peck on the nose. “Don’t forget, alright? I don’t wanna lose you.” He revokes himself from the car. “I won’t, not after all you’ve done for me. And what I’ve done for you.” “Alrighty, then.” He wipes the water from his eyes. “You go on now. Say hi to your dad for me.” “I will.” I say, taking off in the car. — The bustle of the reunion was plain. I feel like I need a palette cleanser. “Say, chap,” dad approaches me, “how’s you and Vincent doing?” “We broke up a long time ago.” I remain uninterested. “Oh, right right. You’ve met anyone new, though?” “Well, kind of. I think I hit the jackpot with him, though.” “Anyone you’ve told me about?” “You should already know him. Oh, and he told me to say hi to you.”