Lot Lizard

Written by: minoan

Sammy nodded in time with the beat blasting from the walkman headphones pressed flush against the slick black scales of his head and into his reptilian earholes. He lay on his stomach, the soft cream-colored scales of his chest matching the off-white sheets of his bed. He was thumbing idly through a magazine, naked except for the cyan and white striped thigh-high leg-warmers he was wearing that matched the color of his tail and contrasted with his black-scaled legs.

He looked over his shoulder towards the green glow of the digital alarm clock on his nightstand – 12:42 a.m. His parents were definitely long asleep by now. It was time.

Sammy turned off his walkman and removed the headphones as he slinked off the bed. Gently he lifted the corner of his mattress off the box spring, careful to remain quiet as he retrieved the rest of his outfit: cyan and white striped arm-warmers to match his legs, a fishnet tube top that exposed more than it covered, and a black sheer mesh miniskirt that was only slightly more opaque. He quickly slipped into the skimpy clothing before taking a step to the corner of his bedroom to look at himself in the full-length floor mirror. 

He slid his clawed fingers down the fishnet fabric covering his slim chest, the black scales of his hands and the black fabric contrasting with the creamy white of his torso. He turned around and looked over his shoulder, the mirror reflecting the silky smooth black scales covering his back. Running from the top of his head down his back and to his reptilian tail were five golden stripes; they stood out decadently from the obsidian smooth darkness of the rest of his backside. Near the base of his tail the golden streaks began to widen and transform into an exotic deep blue, gradually lightening to a brilliant, vibrant turquoise. About halfway down his tail the thick black color tapered into lines, then disappeared into the bright cyan that ran to the tip of his long tail.

Sammy was an American five-lined skink, and as he looked at himself in the mirror he knew he was the sexiest example of his species anyone was likely to find in south Florida. A senior in high school, he’d turned 18 just weeks ago. He’d heard the term ‘twink’, which seemed to describe him well, his body lean but tight from years of swimming on the high school team and gymnastics when he was younger. 

But looking at himself in the mirror from behind, the term ‘femboy’ seemed to be more accurate. He was short and petite, just 5’3”, and his proportions were distinctly feminine – wide hips, thick thighs, and a gorgeous, meaty but firm ass that turned heads wherever he went.

Sammy grinned, flashing his bright white reptile teeth as he looked over his shoulder. He arched his back and spread his legs slightly, then lifted his scaly black and cyan striped tail. He wasn’t wearing any panties or underwear under the miniskirt, so when he raised his tail he exposed the tight, bright cyan-colored tailhole nestled at the triangular convergence of his thick tail and two thicker ass cheeks.

He began shifting his weight from one leg to the other and swaying his hips, his tailhole flitting in and out of view. He stopped, then bent forward further to expose his genital slit.

Even for reptiles it was difficult to distinguish between males and females of their species. For non-reptilians it was nearly impossible. Their voices did not sound appreciably different, and with no hair on their heads or body there were no differences in styles. Even if you saw had the good fortune to see one naked, a male’s genital slit looked virtually identical to a female reptile’s vagina. 

Compounding the confusion was the fact that female reptiles did not grow breasts until and unless they were pregnant. They would retain these throughout their life from that point forward, but a female of a reptilian species who had never been pregnant would be as flat-chested as any male. Usually it was safe to rely on body shape – wider hips for females, stronger chests and arms for males – but this wasn’t always the case. For someone like Sammy, a male with a feminine body, that would lead someone to the wrong conclusion.

In practice, the biggest criterion that almost everyone used to assume the sex of a reptile they didn’t know was judging by the clothes they were wearing. So if a five-lined skink with the body of a cheerleader wore a miniskirt, tube-top and limb-warmers, it would be reasonable to assume that skink was a female.

Reasonable, but wrong.

Sammy bent over further, bringing his genital slit into full view. He reached his hand between his legs, sliding his black-clawed finger into himself. He pushed it deeper, as deep as he could, but there was still plenty of room inside him. On either side of his finger he could feel the soft, warm flesh of both his penises, cyan in color like the rest of his nethers. Like all reptilian species he had hemipenes, two penises instead of just one, and when aroused both his smooth, tapered seven-inch cocks spilled out of his genital slit, side by side. In his current state, though, they remained limp deep inside him, and the interior of his slit was deep and wide enough to accommodate almost any species.

In the mirror he watched as he fingered himself, his slit functionally and visually identical to a female’s sex, his body shaped to enhance the illusion and his clothing reinforcing his femininity.

Yeah, he thought as he removed his finger from his genital slit, beginning to bounce and jiggle his incredible round ass – all this would fool anyone.

And it had.

He was just fifteen years old the first time he did it. He wanted a new video game but his dad wouldn’t buy it for him, telling him that if he wanted it so bad he could earn the money himself. Sammy’s dad probably had something else in mind like mowing neighbors’ lawns or working at a gas station, and in a way Sammy did start working at a gas station that night.

Sammy lived with his parents in Miami, Florida, just a few blocks from the biggest truck-stop in the state, the Florida 595 at the junction of two major highways and the Florida turnpike. On any day of the week there were hundreds of truckers stopped for the night, all of whom would be back on the road with Miami in their rearview mirror the next day. Most of them were just looking for some food and some sleep, but every night there were plenty looking for something else. Call it getting some truck-stop honey, call it renting a seat cover or buying some commercial company – they were looking for a lot lizard.

They called them ‘lot lizards’ because of the way they slinked from truck to truck, climbing into them one after another like creeping lizards. Sammy didn’t initially know that the term didn’t literally mean a lizard working as a hooker. When he’d first heard the term he naively assumed that all the truckers were looking for actual lizards like himself for sex. They weren’t – not exclusively – but that didn’t mean he found any trouble finding a trucker eager to pay good money to fuck him that first time. In fact, he must have been back a hundred times or more in the past three years to sell his body to the truckers for cash, and he’d never once had any trouble finding a John.

Tonight would be no different, he knew.

He lowered his tail and spun around again, checking himself out one last time in the mirror. He felt his soft cyan nipples in the gaps of the fishnet tubetop and straightened the mesh miniskirt which barely covered his genital slit. Even another five-lined skink would be convinced he was a female. A mammal – which almost all truckers were – would never suspect he had a cock. Or two.

Sammy playfully stuck out his forked reptilian tongue at his reflection before turning from the mirror; it was long, reaching past his nipples to the bottom of the tube-top, and it was the same bright cyan color of his tail, nipples, hemipenes and tailhole. He glanced at the clock again – 12:46 a.m. – then looked at the bottom of the door to the hallway to make doubly sure no light was shining in, reassurance that his parents were asleep.

Slowly he crept to the window, his toes raised to make sure his sharp black claws didn’t noisily scrape on the floor. His window was already open, the hot summer air of the south Florida night feeling perfect for a lizard like Sammy. Head-first he leaned out, placing his hand on the thick and cool St. Augustine grass of his parent’s front yard, careful not to get his arm-warmers dirty. He raised his prehensile lizard feet to the windowsill, first one and then the other, gripping it with with finger-like clawed toes. Slowly, so slowly, he slinked forward, edging out of his bedroom and into the night, supremely careful not to make a sound and risk waking his parents. Finally he was able to plant his feet on the grass, and looking over his shoulder he made sure to keep his long tail straight and extended as he crept away so that it would not touch the window sill.

It was a short walk to the 595 truck-stop. Sammy breathed in the humid July air, the warm south Florida breeze carrying the faint smell of salt inland from the ocean a few miles to the east. The traffic from the Florida turnpike whirred loudly overhead as he crossed under the elevated highway.

He walked briskly, eager to get to the lot and get to work. Dressed the way he was there was no mistaking him for anything but a prostitute and he was always scared that a cop would see him on the way there. He was almost certain that if he ever got caught his straight-laced, conservative and homophobic dad would kick him out of the house. His dad would probably kick him out if he even found out Sammy was gay, nevermind the fact that he was a rent boy for long-haul truckers at a grimy pit-stop. He wanted to move out soon anyway, but not before he finished high school, and not before he had a little money saved up. He was working on that now.

There was a chain-link fence that surrounded the truck-stop, but Sammy knew of a section where it wasn’t secured at the bottom and he was easily able to lift it and wriggle underneath. After just a few seconds he ducked between two semi-trailers, and just like that he was deep in the maze of trucks and trailers parked in the lot.

The 18-year old five-striped skink was looking for something specific. Truckers had their own lingo and their own codes, invisible to anyone not aware of the signs but as obvious as an 18-wheeler to anyone in the know. As he walked between the parked trailers, Sammy scanned the driver’s side window of every big-rig. The sign was clear and obvious – a trucker looking to spend some time with a lot lizard left his window open and hung a towel over it, letting it trail down the door.

Sammy looked left and right between the rows of trucks. It only took a few minutes before he rounded behind a trailer and saw what he was looking for, a towel draping a driver’s-side door.

He grinned as he sauntered alongside the trailer, swaying his hips. Sammy could see the reflection of the driver in the rear-view mirror watching him as he approached. As he got closer he could make out the features: pink skin without fur, a broad flat nose that twitched incessantly, two short yellow tusks that jutted from his lower jaw. A pig – they’re always easy tricks to turn, Sammy thought. They’re ugly as fuck, they usually have awful hygiene and their dicks are weird, but they’re easy tricks. Pigs at least know they’re ugly so they take what they can get.

Sammy reached the side of the big-rig and stepped up to the truck’s cab and up to the window. As short as he was he didn’t quite reach the window even standing on the top step, so he stood up on his tip-toes, his sharp black claws tapping on the steel grating.

He peered over the edge of the window and got his first good look at his first John of the night. The trucker pig’s face was even uglier than Sammy has supposed, his snout wrinkled with age; he had to be in his fifties, even older than Sammy’s dad for sure. The corners of his mouth had dried, caked saliva, which wasn’t uncommon for pigs, but they usually had the good sense to clean up a little.

Sammy looked down. The pig had on an old T-shirt, yellowed on his chest and under his armpits from dried sweat and covered with food stains –  mustard yellow and gravy brown and chili red. The filthy shirt was large, but it was still tight on the pig’s bulging belly. Most pigs were overweight, or at the very least had a stocky build, but there was no way to describe this one as anything other than obese.

As Sammy looked further down he saw that the pig wasn’t wearing pants at all. His large, flabby thighs were spread wide to accommodate his enormous testicles – a trait common to pigs, which incidentally was the reason for the worst part of servicing them for Sammy. Pigs usually finished fast, but their orgasms lasted at least ten minutes and sometimes up to twenty, cum pouring out the entire time. By the time they were finished they had usually dumped more than a liter of it into, onto and around whatever it was they were fucking with that… ‘thing.’

Sammy’s eyes went to that pig’s ‘thing’ now, already poking from his pink sheath. Usually he really enjoyed exploring the diversity of the shapes, sizes and colors of his client’s cocks, every species offering something different, unusual and sexy.

Not pigs. For Sammy, getting fucked by a pig felt disgusting, more like a worm was wriggling around inside him than getting nailed properly. Pig’s cocks were very long, but they were as thin as his pinkie finger. But their most unusual feature was probably the shape of that pencil-thin cock. Rather than tapering out like many species or bulging at the glans like others, pigs’ cocks ended in what could only be described as a corkscrew shape.

By far the strangest part about actually fucking a pig was what they did with that corkscrew cock, though. They didn’t really thrust like guys of any other species would, they just kind of… twirled it around inside you. By Sammy’s experience, sex with a pig mostly entailed being pinned down or held in place while the pig’s worm-like cock twisted, curled and writhed inside him like some alien appendage until his gigantic balls were drained.

Not the most pleasant experience. But pigs were easy tricks, and they usually paid well.

“Looking for some honey, honey?” Sammy asked as seductively as he could, though he doubted the pig would notice his insincerity or care.

“Lookin’ fer’ some pussy,” the hog answered bluntly. As soon as he opened his mouth Sammy caught a whiff of his pungent breath, like a mix of fermenting onions and spoiled milk. He tried not to wince at the smell.

“Mine ain’t free, sugar,” Sammy replied. It was always best when the John let him know right away what he wanted so that Sammy knew which face to put on. More often than not they wanted a woman, and Sammy was more than experienced at playing that role. If they wanted a man, which they sometimes did, Sammy was more than happy to reveal his two hemipenes – over which he had excellent control – and let them emerge from his slit. He could even switch positions if desired, doing the fucking instead of getting fucked, though that wasn’t his preference. Still, he could be whoever the client wanted him to be and do whatever the client wanted him to do.

“How much?”

Sammy looked him over again. The trucker had wrapped his grimy fingers around the several inches of slimy pig cock that peeked out from his sheath. His hand was stationary as his corkscrew twisted slowly. Yeah, this nasty fucker is going to have to pay a premium, Sammy thought.

“Forty for a stick-shift, Eighty for lip service, One-sixty for a hitch-hike, three-hundred for an all-nighter.”

“God damn girl, you think you worth all that?”

“I know I am, you’re getting a discount, sexy,” Sammy said, trying not to cringe as he saw the pig’s cock twisting faster in his sausage fingers.

“Hnngh...” the pig huffed gruffly. He reached the hand that he wasn’t using to pleasure himself out the window to Sammy’s mouth. Sammy could see he was deciding whether the price was worth it or not. To entice him, Sammy started sucking on the trucker’s stubby index finger. It tasted like grease – both kinds, pizza and engine.

“You ain’t gonna use these, is ya?” he said with a chortle as he ran his stumpy digit across Sammy’s viciously sharp reptilian teeth. Sammy closed his lips around the finger as he tilted his head back slightly, letting it slide from his mouth.

“Baby, I wouldn’t dream… might use this though,” Sammy answered before sticking out his long, blue, forked tongue. It was much longer than the pig was expecting, and in a flash it was extended nearly a foot and licking his ear. That was enough convincing for him.

“Leave the raincoat?” he asked.

“Twenty extra,” Sammy answered, his tongue darting back into his mouth.

“Fill your tank?”

“Twenty more.”

“God damn, girl,” the pig huffed again, though Sammy couldn’t tell if it was from the price or just the pig’s reaction from a hooker having absolutely no holdups about being fucked raw and taking a load from a stranger.

“So what’ll it be?”

The pig’s hand trailed down from Sammy’s reptilian snout, down his shoulder and to his chest. Sammy saw a droplet of drool drip from the corner of the pig’s mouth as the trucker fondled his soft nipple through the fishnet mesh shirt he was wearing.

“I’ll take y’on a joyride. Get in.”

“Money up front,” Sammy replied. He’d been burned before, and working alone he didn’t have much recourse if a client refused to pay. That was especially true if the John was bigger and stronger than him, which was almost always the case.

“Sure...” the pig answered. “One-sixty?”

“Two-hundred even, if you want those ‘extras,’ sugar.”

He opened the center console and pulled out his wallet. Sammy watched as he wordlessly pulled out two hundred-dollar bills.

“Hope your pussy’s worth it, ‘sugar,’” he grunted, handing the bills to Sammy, who tucked them into deep down his thigh into his leg-warmer.

Sammy grinned as he stepped down and the big-rig’s door opened. He’d been steadily increasing his prices for the past few months and was still shocked that these desperate truckers would pay so much for his services. Looking back, he realized that when he started doing this a few years ago he’d charged way less than he could have gotten.

The pig reached his meaty hand down to Sammy. Sammy offered his to be helped up into the truck cabin, but the pig grabbed his scaly wrist instead and pulled him up forcefully.

“Hey now, that’s no way to treat a lady...” Sammy protested.

“You ain’t no lady, slut,” the pig retorted.

He’s gonna be one of these types of Johns, Sammy thought. He tried not to chuckle again; if only the trucker knew how right he was when he said Sammy wasn’t a lady.

“Ain’t no room on the driver’s side, I’ma scootch over to the bitch seat. Shut the door behind ya,” the pig said. He inelegantly – with some physical difficulty, Sammy noted – shuffled over the center console and plopped his obese, bare butt down onto the passenger’s seat.

In contrast, Sammy slinked lithely over the driver’s seat. He didn’t know whether it was the small amount of physical activity or the trucker’s excitement, but Sammy could hear the trucker beginning to breathe a bit heavier. 

Sammy’s long black and cyan tail stuck out the open window and into the hot Miami night for a moment before he lowered it on the sill and against the outside of the door, using it to close the door it behind him. When his knee settled on the driver’s seat as he crawled toward the John he realized the seat was wet, feeling liquid seep through his thigh-warmer. Either the pig’s sweat or precum, Sammy thought – at least he hoped it was one of those.

As he edged closer Sammy noticed the pile of trash at the pig’s hooves in front of the passenger’s seat. Fast food bags mostly, candy bar wrappers and empty soda bottles, detritus from a slovenly life lived on the road. Now that he was further into the cab he was also enveloped by the pungent smell of the pig’s breath rather than just catching an occasional whiff, mixed now with the stale stench of his body odor and the faint hint of refuse from the trash pile.

“Ever been with a reptile before?” Sammy asked as he lifted his leg over the center console, closing his nostrils as a lizard can, choosing to breathe through his mouth.

“Plenty of times,” the pig replied. It was a lie. He’d only ever dreamed of having sex with a reptile.

In truth, Sammy wasn’t the only one shocked by the price. The little skink must not be very experienced, the trucker knew, because if she was she would know that there are mammals who would pay five times what he was paying her or more, and those clients weren’t hard to find. Here in Miami rich tourists paid high premiums to escort services for nights with rare and exotic species. Paired with her incredible body, this little skink apparently had no clue how exotic and rare she was – how much she was really worth.

There was a reason Miami was the hub for these kinds of escort services, too. Unlike mammals, reptiles were cold-blooded, relying on external heat to stay alive rather than their own internal physiology. They could travel anywhere in the summertime, of course, but reptiles could only really live in places that never got cold in the winter. Reptiles were much more common in Central and South America, Central Africa, Southeast Asia – places close to the equator – but in the United States they could really only be found in southern California, south Texas and south Florida.

But even for Johns looking for an exotic, taboo time with a reptile, Sammy offered more. Most reptiles had thick skin with hard, almost bony scales. Clients weren’t calling the escort services looking for alligators, horned lizards or tortoises. But Sammy’s skin and scales were soft and silky smooth, shiny and slick like the snakes he was so closely related to. And Sammy’s exotic coloration – midnight black with gold and cyan stripes – was the stuff of dreams.

Yeah, the trucker pig thought as the lithe skink lifted a leg over him and straddled his lap, facing towards him, there’s a hundred folks within a mile of here that’d pay a thousand bucks for this dumb slut. Two hundred bucks is a bargain.

“Take this dumb shit off,” he said to Sammy without even waiting for the lizard to get settled on his lap.

Sammy felt him hook his stumpy thumbs underneath his fishnet shirt and aggressively lift it up, trying to take it off.

“Hey, watch it!” Sammy yelled as he lifted his arms, allowing the pig to take off his fishnet shirt mostly to prevent it from getting ripped. He was starting to get a little peeved with this porker.

“Take this shit off too,” the pig said gruffly, ignoring Sammy’s protest and grabbing the hem of the mesh miniskirt the skink was wearing.

“I’ll do it, you’re gonna rip it, Jesus,” Sammy answered quickly. Normally he tried to at least tease a client a little and undress in sexy way, but this time it was clear that the trucker wanted to skip the foreplay entirely.

There were two ways to put on a miniskirt: above the tail or below. Sammy always chose above, letting the back of the skirt rest on the top of the base of his tail and allowing for unrestricted access underneath. Doing it this way also let him take it off in the same way he took off his shirt, up and over his body.

Sammy pulled up on the miniskirt, lifting it past his stomach and chest. It wasn’t past his neck before he felt the pig’s grubby hands on his chest, one over each cyan-colored nipple.

“You like those?” he teased as he lifted the skirt over his head and dropped it to the side. Normally his clients – especially those who thought he was a girl – didn’t spend much time on his chest. Everyone knew teenage female reptiles didn’t have breasts; maybe that was part of their taboo allure for mammals, but in Sammy’s case his clients usually focused instead on his perfect ass.

The trucker didn’t answer, only grunting in response, his gaze tilted down towards Sammy’s body rather than up at his fiery orange reptilian eyes. Drool dripped from his mouth as he wrapped his fingers behind Sammy’s back. Sammy again smelled his pungent breath as the pig pulled him closer and licked his nipple. He felt the pig’s hard tusk scraping recklessly against his scaled, smooth skin as the pig licked upwards along his upper chest. Sammy began to pull back as the pig licked up his neck, then to his chin; he would let this disgusting slob fuck him, sure, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to kiss him.

Thankfully the pig didn’t lick any further, pulling back as the tip of his tongue brushed Sammy’s chin. Sammy realized he’d been holding his breath; he opened his nostrils and his eyes to see the pig once again looking down, ogling his body.

“God damn you got a tight little body, girl,” the pig growled as his fat hands groped along Sammy’s bare torso. He could feel the skink’s ribs underneath cool, slick scales before trailing down to Sammy’s toned stomach, ab muscles that could be felt better than they could be seen on the lizard’s slim frame. He let one hand rest on Sammy’s bare hip while the other trailed further and further down.

Without any warning or preparation the pig clumsily slid a chubby finger into Sammy’s slit.

“Tight little pussy, too,” he grunted as he felt the tightness and warmth around his finger as he slid it, unbeknownst to him, between the lot lizard’s two cocks.

“Mmmm… that feels so good babe...” Sammy lied and he began rolling his hips, urging the fat pig’s finger in and out of him while he straddled his lap. Lies, deception, they were all part of this game.

“You’re a little slut, ain’t-cha? You ain’t even know what my name is...”

Sammy only answered by thrusting his hips forward, as if he were begging the pig to probe him deeper. All part of the game.

“You ain’t known me five minutes and you’re beggin’ me, girl. All right, I’ll give ya what you’re beggin’ for… I’ll give you some pork...”

Sammy had felt that ‘thing’ against his inner thigh as soon as he straddled the pig’s lap – long, slimy, thin like a worm. It had been writhing, the corkscrew-like tip twisting the whole time. At one point it almost wedged its way between Sammy’s leg and his striped leg-warmer. The trucker’s vermiform cock was searching desperately for a hole in which to burrow, any tight crevice to wriggle its way into.

“… right in that little blue pussy of yours.”

His pulled his finger from inside Sammy as his hand darted for the twirling tip of his cock. He guided it to the male lizard’s scaly slit and, without a second’s pause or hesitation, pushed in deep.

“Oh my god, girl...” the trucker huffed as his porcine cock invaded the reptile’s slit. Sammy could feel the pig’s wormy cock twisting and twirling, probing like some alien tentacle. It was even thinner than the pig’s finger but much, much longer.

“Your pussy’s so tight...”

Sammy couldn’t help but grin, slightly baring his razor-sharp teeth as leaned forward and draped his warmer-clad arms over the pig’s shoulders. At the same time he started bouncing on the trucker’s worm, filling the truck’s cabin with the faint plap-plap-plap sound of sex every time his slick scaly thighs came down on the pig’s sticky, sweaty lap.

His grin wasn’t from the sex itself. The truck driver was undeniably gross – fat, old, awful hygiene, and rude to boot. But there was something about the situation that Sammy always found highly erotic, something about tricking straight guys into fucking him (and getting paid for it) that was way hotter to Sammy than if he just hooked up with a guy at a club or something.

Sammy felt the pig’s cock corkscrewing and squirming deep inside his genital slit. What would this trucker do if he knew, right now, the tightness he felt wasn’t from a female’s sex but was actually from being wedged in the tight crevice between Sammy’s two reptilian cocks? Would he freak out? Would he roll with it? Would he become violent? Sammy was small, petite like a woman – that was why he could so easily trick these men, but he also knew that if they became violent there was no way he would be able to fight them off without using his razor-sharp claws and teeth, something he never wanted to have to do.

But the thrill for Sammy was the danger of being caught, being found out for what he was. He’d probably tricked a hundred clients by now into thinking he was a woman and he’d never been caught, but the danger was the biggest part of the excitement.

Sammy stopped bouncing, dropping down fully on the pig’s lap. He knew from prior experience with pigs that he didn’t need to bounce, or move at all really – he felt the pig’s worm-like cock twisting and twirling inside his slit and against his own two penises, the strange way pigs fucked.

He also knew from prior experience that the pig wouldn’t last long before he came, and that when he climaxed he would wrap his arms around Sammy and squeeze him tight. It was out of the trucker’s control, an evolutionary instinct to pin down his mate and prevent them from fleeing while he was breeding them, immobilizing them for the 15 or 20 minutes it would take him to drain his balls. The strange way pigs fucked.

Sammy knew all this as he felt the pig grabbing his hips tighter, and none of it would have been especially concerning as he heard the pig’s labored grunts and knew he was getting close – except for one thing. While writhing inside him the pig’s cock had curled around one of Sammy’s penises. As it twisted and probed, it was now wrapped entirely around one of Sammy’s cocks, stroking the skink’s shaft up and down deep within him as the corkscrew tip churned. It was a sensation Sammy had never experienced before – his still-internal cock effectively getting jacked deep inside him – and to his horror he was suddenly aware that he was getting an erection.

This was bad.

This was really bad.

Sammy always had excellent control over his hemipenes, and in all the times he’d let Johns fuck his slit he’d never once let his two cocks spill out with clients who thought he was female. But what this pig was doing to him with his own cock, totally by accident, was unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. In a few seconds the two cyan-colored tips of his cocks were going to emerge from his slit, and very soon after than all seven inches of both shafts were going to follow. If this happened at the same time the pig hit orgasm, gripping him tightly, it would be a disaster.

Sammy felt the pig’s hands loosen slightly on his hips, only to trail back to his thick, firm butt. As the pig squeezed his ass with both hands and his two cocks were seconds away from peaking out of his slit, Sammy knew this was the best chance he was going to get.

“You like my butt, babe?” he said quickly.

“Nnnh-hnnnh...” the pig grunted in what Sammy took as a positive response.

“Let me give you a better look...”

Sammy couldn’t wait for the pig to respond. He had to act now.

In an agile, nimble motion Sammy lifted his warmer-clad leg up and over the trucker’s head, his knife-like hindclaws passing safely by. Swiftly he spun his body with the pig’s dick still corkscrewing in his slit between his two hardening cocks. Another leg lift, a quick adjustment, and it was done. Sammy was now sitting on the pig’s lap facing the other direction, and not a second too soon – the cyan tips of his two tapered skink cocks were now peeking from his slit, and in just a few more seconds all seven inches of both his erections would be exposed.

Sammy lifted his scaly tail as high as he could, the muscular appendage pressed against the truck cabin roof. At the same time he leaned his body forward, arching his back and lifting his butt to give the trucker the unobstructed view of his tight cyan tailhole right in his face – an attempt to distract him so he wouldn’t notice Sammy’s hand reaching for his hemipenes to keep them hidden.

“God damn you got a perfect ass, girl,” the pig uttered as Sammy felt his grimy hands grip his butt firmly, one palm on each black, scaly cheek. With his cock still writhing in Sammy’s slit he pulled the skink’s ass back down to his lap.

“It’s all for you tonight, sugar. You make me feel like a woman,” Sammy teased. He knew he was safe now, facing away from the pig with his ass in his lap, and not a moment too soon – by the time Sammy said ‘woman’ his cocks had both fully emerged from his slit.

“Pussy’s even tighter sitting like this, fuck,” Sammy heard him say. At the same time he felt the trucker’s hands sliding forward, over his hips, up his stomach to his chest. He was wrapping him up, pinning him, immobilizing him – the strange way pigs fucked. He was about to cum.

And now that Sammy wasn’t in danger of being caught, that was okay. Sammy resisted the urge to tell the pig that the reason that ‘pussy’ got tighter was because his wormy cock was actually stuffed between two erect penises, the crevice tighter now that they were hard.

“Baby… feels so good… you’re gonna make me cum...” Sammy lied, starting to rock his hips again. He didn’t need to bounce or hump for a pig – force of habit – but this was more or less part of his script with Johns. The quicker they came the quicker he could be gone, so when they were close he always tried to get them to finish.

“Nnngghh...” the pig grunted, his arms wrapping around Sammy’s slim chest. “You like pig cock, little cum slut?”

“I love it...” Sammy lied again, feeling the slimy member twirling and squirming inside him.

Nnnngghh!” the pig grunted again, louder this time, squeezing the skink tighter and pulling him back into his chest. “show me how much you love it, slut! Cum for me! Squirt for me!”

This was not something Sammy was expecting, and he had to restrain a laugh, but as he bounced on pig cock and felt it wriggling almost frantically inside him – as he held his own two erect cocks in his hand – he had an idea.

A devious idea.

A dangerous, thrilling, exciting idea.

He couldn’t pass it up.

He began stroking his two cyan-colored reptilian cocks. 

“Make me squirt, babe,” he said with a smirk back to the pig, “Make me cum...”

The pig squeezed even tighter. Sammy could feel the heat from the trucker’s fat stomach, now pressed tight against the slick black scales on his back.

“That’s it, flick that clit, slut!! Squirt for me!!” 

Sammy was jacking himself hard now, his hand wrapped around his two cocks with a finger between them, but from the pig’s perspective behind him it would have looked indistinguishable from a woman stimulating herself.

Getting an erection without wanting it was a rare anomaly for Sammy, a freak occurrence brought on by the strange tangling of the pig cock still squirming inside him, but once he was aroused he still had excellent control. He would ‘squirt’ like the filthy trucker wanted – but not until the pig came first.

“Feels so good… I’m so close babe...” Sammy breathed heavily.

“Hnnngh… I’m gonna...” the pig moaned into Sammy’s back, riding the edge of his orgasm as his worm-like penis thrashed wildly inside the male lizard’s slit, winding around and corkscrewing between the reptile’s two hard shafts.

“Cum for me babe...” Sammy answered, masturbating his double-cocks vigorously, himself a hair-trigger pull away from cumming.

“I’m! I’m!”

“Yes! Cum in me! Fill me up!”

“Hhwwwweeeeee!!”

The trucker squealed like the pig that he was, filling the big-rig’s cabin with his high-pitched shriek as he orgasmed. He convulsed violently, his large pink arms wrapped tightly around Sammy’s chest squeezing as hard as they could. Sammy, aware of the strange way pigs fuck, was ready for it – but the pig bear-hug was still sudden and painful, forcing the breath out of him for a brief moment.

“Hhwwwweeeeee!!”

As Sammy caught his breath he felt the pig’s cum pouring into him. In only seconds it had filled the space available inside his tight genital slit and was already gushing out, a thick stream of white flowing down to the fake leather seat and beginning to pool between the pig’s thighs, grapefruit-sized balls and ass-crack.

“Hnnnngghhh!!”

The pig stopped squealing, the squeals replaced by oinking grunts as the crashing crescendo of the first seconds of his orgasm dissipated into the 15-minute ordeal that Sammy was about to endure. The position he was in was uncomfortable, back arched around the pig’s flabby gut, but he was unable to lean forward. With the hog’s arms wrapped around his smooth, scaly body he could barely move at all, pinned in place while being filled with cum.

“Hnnnngghhh...”

But he could still move his hand.

The hand that was still stroking his hemipenes.

He might be stuck here for the next quarter of an hour, gripped tightly against the smelly, disgusting pig as he bred him like a sow, but he could still make good on his devious idea.

“Babe! It’s sooo hot!” Sammy lied once more as he brought himself to the edge of orgasm. “I’m gonna squirt!”

“Hnnnngghhh...” the pig grunted again, still draining his balls into Sammy. “Squirt for me…  hnnnngghhh...”

Sammy grinned deviously as he gripped his shafts tighter and stroked faster, able to cum at any moment he desired.

“Here it comes, baaaabe,” he said, trying to stifle a laugh. “You want to feel it?”

“Hnnnngghhh… yeah let me…  hnnnngghhh… feel you squirt… hnnnngghhh… slut!”

“Okay, you asked for it! Here it comes!”

Sammy squeezed the two tapered tips of his blue penises. His nostrils opened wide and he thrust his hips forward the small amount he could, still locked in the pig’s arms. He bit his lip and with a subtle, effeminate moan, he reached his climax.

His right cock ejaculated first – it always did. A thick jet of ivory-white lizard cum shot out in an unbroken stream, splattering against the pig’s bare thigh. Sammy spread his cocks apart as the right cock’s ejaculatory pulse ended, just in time for the left cock to shoot its first pulse of cum into the pig’s left thigh.

“Squirting! I’m squirting! Oh god, you feel it, babe?” Sammy cried while ejaculating, oscillating pulses of cum spraying from his two cocks, one then the other, coating both the pig’s inner thighs.

“Fuck… nnnngghhhh… yeah...”

“Do you love it baby? Tell me you love it...” Sammy said as he looked down his body. 

He always thought he shot a lot when he came, but the streams of his own cum he saw splattering against the pig’s leg and trickling down were nothing compared to the torrent of pig cum that was gushing from his slit. He could see the trucker’s thin, slimy worm pulsating, throbbing, its corckscrew tip wedged between lizard cocks deep in Sammy’s slit. And with each pulsation a fresh cascade of cum spilled out of Sammy, pouring audibly onto the passenger seat like a garden hose.

“Hnnnngghhh… I love it… hnnnghh… slut...” the pig grunted in response.

Sammy watched the pig’s cum flooding out from between his legs. His two bright cyan cocks were beginning to soften and retract back into the slit that the pig was breeding, still mistakenly believing it was Sammy’s nonexistent pussy. The pig’s inner thighs were coated with white reptile cum. Sammy still had the devious grin on his face as he wondered what this trucker would do if he knew another guy’s cum was dripping down his legs, if he knew he was fucking a guy right now.

How many more straight guys could he fuck before he got caught? He would get caught eventually, he knew that – this time had been the closest call yet. He’d just been seconds away from the trucker seeing his cocks. What would have happened then?

Still, it was the danger that made it exciting and the situation that made it sexy. There was nothing sexy or hot about fucking a gross old trucker; the hotness came from tricking a straight guy gay sex, making him pay for it – and giving him the best fuck of his life in the process.

Tomorrow morning this trucker would leave the Florida 595 Truck Stop in his rear-view mirror, $200 poorer and with a story about how he fucked the hottest little teenage five-lined skink girl you’d ever seen. And when he told the story it’d all be true, Sammy thought, as the tips of his hemipenes slid back into his pig-cum filled genital slit. It’d all be true except that last little bit. He’d fucked the hottest little teenage five-lined skink boy you’d ever seen.

“Hnnnngghhh… hnnnngghhh… hnnnngghhh...”

Sammy settled in. He knew the rhythmic grunting of the pig followed by the wet gushing sound of cum flowing out of his slit would be the only sounds in the cabin for the next 15 minutes. He knew the big arms wrapped around his sleek reptilian body wouldn’t let him go until the pig had pumped more than a liter of it into him.

Sammy didn’t pretend to understand what pigs got out of this, but all species were different, he supposed. This was the experience he wanted, this was the experience he was paying for, so maybe it was better not to judge.

“Hnnnngghhh… hnnnngghhh… hnnnngghhh...”

God, what a mess, Sammy thought as he looked down his body between his legs – the pig was sitting in a puddle of his own cum in the passenger seat, a puddle that was only going to get bigger over the next quarter of an hour. He was glad he didn’t have to clean it up. But then again, he thought as he looked back up, noting the trash that filled the cab, it was doubtful the pig would clean it up either.

The strange way pigs fucked.

- -

Sammy squatted behind the truck’s trailer, his reptilian tail lifted high in the air. As if the way pigs fucked wasn’t already strange enough, they left a parting gift when they were done. Their last ejaculatory pulse was not normal cum but instead a thick, wax-like mass of congealed semen, a mating plug. It was an evolutionary adaptation that served to seal their seed inside the sow they were breeding while also preventing other males from mating with her.

It was also super gross.

Sammy squeezed hard trying to force the egg-shaped plug out of his genital slit, but it just wouldn’t come. That thing was really stuck in there deep. Never again, he thought – not ever again with a pig. Easy trick or not, they’re just too disgusting.

He recomposed himself and squatted even lower, straining with his reptilian nostrils closed to push it out. He felt it start to come and then, finally…

Shplorp!

The mating plug that the trucker had deposited in Sammy landed on the parking lot asphalt, followed immediately by a final gush of his cum it had sealed inside the skink’s genital slit. Sammy stayed squatted down for a moment, letting the last of it drip out of him.

When he stood back up he pulled the black sheer mesh miniskirt down and straightened it, then did the same to his fishnet tube top. Sammy’s hand went to his striped leg-warmer, feeling the square shape of the two folded hundred-dollar bills tucked inside. He opened his nostrils and inhaled deeply.

The skimpily-dressed five-lined skink walked through the maze of trucks, heading back towards the gap in the chain-link fence he’d used to gain entry to the parking lot. It was still early, all things considered, but he’d already made good money tonight. He decided it would be better to head back home, sneak back into his open bedroom window without waking his parents and get some sleep. He really wanted a shower, too, but that would have to wait until morning.

Sammy was about to emerge from the rows of trucks, he was just a dozen yards from the gap in the fence, but when he turned the last corner something caught his eye. A bright cyan-colored towel was hanging out of the window of the last truck in the row.

He stopped, looked left to the fence, then again to the right at the signal from the truck driver that he was looking for a lot lizard. Tricking one more trick might not be a bad idea after all.

Sammy smiled deviously as he sauntered alongside the trailer towards the driver’s-side door.