1 comments/ 87279 views/ 5 favorites Rest Stop Slut Ch. 01 By: sergebricwittle It was foolish, I knew, to be driving in such weather. Few vehicles could be seen on the normally busy stretch of interstate which crossed a vast expanse of Western ranchland. While just a few inches of snow had accumulated so far, the flakes were growing fatter and more numerous - and the forecast promised more. But I was not merely horny. Horniness could be taken care of at home with a simple jerk-off session; I had transcended routine horniness and had entered a state of arousal and desire that demanded action. A sort of primitive directive had taken hold and was now in total control. The directive was simple: Get Dick Now. I exited the highway after an hour and a half of coffee-fueled driving and pulled into the parking lot of the 1960's era rest stop. Just the sight of it caused a stirring in my jeans; a visual stimulation akin to porn. It was one of a vanishing breed; most had been replaced by corporate facilities selling food and fuel. For a brief moment I mourned the loss of these informal playgrounds and was grateful that this place - long a favorite - still remained. It's quirky, angular lines recalled a bygone America; one of exciting summer vacations and leisurely travel; of history and adventure. Flanked by cast concrete picnic shelters, the small Shed-style building housing the restrooms resembled a futuristic manor house with symmetrical dependencies. The architecture - the place itself - was in stimulating. Despite the cold, I was nearly erect. Mine was the only vehicle to be seen, and the snow cover told me that just one vehicle had been here in the past hour. I held my cap against the wind as I trudged up the walk to the building and left a distinct and solitary track toward the metal door marked MEN. Its glossy orange paint had chipped and worn to reveal an equally jarring tint of aqua below. The maintenance level of the place was halfway between casual and flat-out neglected. Inside, a scratchy computer-generated voice issued forth a garbled stream of weather- and road-condition information. The monotone voice emanated as a public service from a speaker in the ceiling and reverberated from the concrete walls, creating a sort of audio blanket that isolated this spot from the world outside. I stamped my feet upon the dry tile floor; the clumps of snow began to puddle as I stood and allowed my eyes to adjust to the interior which was dim compared to the brilliant white outside. As the room came into focus, I perceived a dingy quality in keeping with the exterior; a trash can near the door overflowed with paper towels while a dripping sink faucet enlivened the otherwise-still space. The sink counter was on the wall opposite the entry; scratchy "mirrors" of once-polished steel dimly reflected my form. I moved my hand to my crotch and watched as my reflection groped at the stiffened rod in my jeans. To my right, the far wall of an adjacent and slightly larger area held two stalls and three urinals along its length. I calculated my options. While it would be fun to stand a the urinals to display my swollen cock, it was not likely that any fellow travelers would be showing up in the next two minutes. I walked to the corner stall and peeked in. The metal door swung easily and it was obvious that it no longer latched; only part of the mechanism remained leaving a sizable hole in the door. Shreds and wads of toilet paper littered the floor; the holder was empty. Faded graffiti depicted misshapen anatomical parts and various instructions for quickie sex: "Show Hard for BJ" and "8 - 10 pm 11/3 blink car lights twice". A re-located toilet paper holder had left screw holes in the panel which offered both stall occupants a good view of whatever might be going on next door. Leaving the door hanging ajar, I moved to the other stall which was adjacent to the urinals. Two discreet holes had been drilled in the panel for optimal viewing of man meat. Graffiti and paper littered this stall as well. I surveyed the toilet seat which was surprisingly clean and stepped inside. Closing the door, I hung my jacket over the top and unbuckled my belt. Dropping my jeans and shorts to my boots, I enjoyed a surge of blood to my anxious cock, and gave it a few playful strokes. I breathed deeply and inhaled the unique and intoxicating scent of industrial cleaning products mixed with a musky male scent hinting at piss, sweat, and shit. I tapped the length of my erection, now rock-hard, and reveled in its defiant response as it sprung even higher. My bladder was now asking for relief, but I was reluctant to waste a load of piss by myself; I would wait. I sat down on the toilet and began to read the walls. I tugged at my balls as I read, which only seemed to make me want to piss more. Stretching slightly, I positioned myself at a slight angle and braced my feet against the door's frame. I shifted my attention to my dick, which helped to diminish the need to piss. My eyes wandered upward to the sloping ceiling which held a row of clerestory windows beneath its highest point. Snow stuck to them, creating a fuzzy sort of filtered light above the fluorescent glow of a lighting strip at the ceiling's center. A muffled "clunk" snapped me out of my musings and started my heart racing. The unmistakable sound of a vehicle door slamming promised some kind of adventure - even if it was just purely voyeuristic. From my position, I could peer through the crack between the door and frame and catch a glimpse of anyone at the entry. I froze and strained to see who might walk in. After what seemed an eternity, the metal door grated open and filled the space with a momentary increase of light. A short, bearded man with a "fireplug" build stopped as I had done and stamped his feet. His cap and coat were covered with white; the snow must be really coming down. After shaking himself of the snow, he stared in my direction. Could he see me? Surely he could see my feet, but not me. His eyes must be adjusting to the light. I eased back into a sitting position as he walked toward the urinals. I leaned close to the partition and stared through the peep hole. He chose the center pisser and unzipped his pants. A sturdy left hand tugged at his fly; his right hand fumbled within. More tugging. His right hand produced a wad of flesh from his pants, and the left hand dropped to his side allowing me a clear shot of his unit. Short and stubby as the man himself, his dick was surprisingly fat. Was he erect? A heavy foreskin drooped from the tip. It was beautiful. I moved slightly to get a view of his face. A heavy dark beard, slightly wiry, framed his round head. While not conventionally attractive, the man was definitely good-looking. Was he playing with his dick or just impatient to pee? As I craned closer, the brim of my cap tapped the metal partition with a sound that betrayed me. I froze as the man looked my direction and smiled. He tugged at his pants again, and produced his balls. Turning to face my peep hole, he began to slowly masturbate. Never having been shy to accept an invitation, I jumped to my feet and hastily pulled my jeans most of the way up. I fumbled with the stall door. As I emerged, the man broke into a wide smile, apparently happy with what he saw. "You don't need to hurry," he said, "There ain't nobody out there and it's just us in here." I reached out and touched his beard as my other hand held my pants up. With both arms he pulled me close and expertly slid his tongue into my mouth. While I hadn't expected that, I was aroused even further. His bushy beard excited my trim goatee; the smell and taste of cigar smoke were tantalizing. Forgetting about my pants, I reached up to press his face closer to mine; I needed to take in all of his scent and probing tongue. As his tongue darted about my mouth, his short, fat, stubby dick began poking my balls. I squeezed my legs together as if to latch onto his tool and pull it inside me. My cock was upright and pressed into his flannel-clad belly. His grip around my chest tightened, and for just a moment I felt a twinge of fear. He was certainly powerful despite his relatively short stature. For a moment he broke the kiss and stared deep into my eyes. I froze. A strange warm sensation began around my balls and I realized he was pissing on me. I must have registered shock, for he stopped and loosened his grip on me momentarily. I responded by pulling his face toward mine again; the kissing and pissing resumed. Without warning, he pulled back again and began to hose me down, spraying my face, shirt and legs. Instinctively I dropped to the floor and opened my mouth to catch the salty stream. I gulped noisily as my mouth moved nearer and neared to his dick, savoring the decadent and luxuriously forceful torrent. With one final maneuver, my mouth fully encompassed his cock and I continued gulping until he was drained. His beefy hands clasped the back of my head and buried my face into his furry crotch with a force that told me he was in control. His hips began to sway and soon he was pounding my face with a hypnotic pace that seemed to defy time itself. I became lost in the strong taste of piss combined with the sensation of the ample girth of his dick. It sent me into a cock-sucking fury I had never known before; I was, for the moment, fully possessed by lust, inhibition, and a total stranger. My tongue stroked every inch of his rod as he rhythmically fucked my face. It wrapped the shaft and probed his foreskin; I pushed it back and drove my tongue into his piss slit. I freed one hand and reached for his balls, squeezing them as I sucked and gulped. I used my teeth to gently torture his swollen head - a technique which rewarded me with unexpectedly early and repetitive blasts of thick, salty juice. As I lapped and swallowed the final drops, I could feel his erection starting to subside. He stood silently as I toyed with him a while longer before I detected a slight tremor - a subtle shaking - in his frame. I released his now-wilted dick and looked up into his furry face. To be continued... Rest Stop Slut Ch. 02 My God, I thought; What have I done? I just let this total stranger empty his bladder on me, and then I suck his cock and eat his load... who knows where this guy has been? The brief moment of clarity broke my trance-like obsession with servicing the man who stood before me. I was suddenly acutely aware of where I was; I was kneeling on the filthy tile floor of a public restroom in piss-soaked clothes which were growing cold. I reveled in my degraded state, and wanted more. I stared up at the stranger's face as his short but beefy frame shook slightly. "Oh, yeah! That was good; I'm feelin' a little woozy. You OK?" "I'm OK," I said blankly, though a sharp pain in my gut made me aware that I wasn't OK; I needed to pee badly. I thought about just letting go as my jeans were already fairly damp from the shower he'd given me. I became conscious once again of the weather advisory information droning monotonously from the ceiling. Road conditions were worsening with ice and snow-packed conditions complicating travel. In my aroused state, the knowledge seemed rude and invasive; it was irrelevant. I only wanted more action with this man. I slowly rose from the wet tiles and he offered a hand to pull me up. "You're fun," he said, and reached into my still-sagging jeans to pull at my cock. "Thanks for taking my piss... " He squeezed hard several times "Oh yeah..." He pulled me close again and pushed my swelling cock head into his flaccid meat. It immediately began to stir again. I smiled as he played with our cocks, and placed my hands upon his shoulders. "You want to take a shower?" My question to him sounded more like strong hint than a question. "Oh yeah, I'm all about piss," he said. "Can't give or get enough..." In response I unleashed a hot torrent in his hand. The relief to my bladder was immense, and served to intensify my need for immediate hedonistic gratification. "Stop!" he commanded, "I want it up my ass! I struggled to stop the flow and somehow managed to hold it back. The pain had subsided, but I still had plenty more to unload. He released my cock and lapped at his drenched hand. "Oh yeah!" he said again, making me inwardly wince. He leaned forward to kiss me again, and as he did I reminded myself that he was not a boyfriend; he was just an anonymous sex partner. I told myself to overlook his limited vocabulary and get on with enjoying his hot body and willingness to get off with me. The taste of my own piss mingled with that of his cigar-tinged tongue. We kissed deeply and passionately. His fat, stubby rod was rock-hard. He gave my lower lip a gentle nip and brushed his beard against my neck, teasing my goatee in the process. "Fuck my ass and piss in me," he said softly in my ear. "Yeah, fuck me - I need it bad..." "Do you have a condom?" I asked. "Fuck, don't make me go limp again!" he said. "I don't use those damn things! I want your spunk and your piss in my ass - not in some goddamn balloon!" He removed his coat and threw it across the top edge of the stall panel. I watched with curiosity and arousal as he removed his cap to display a shiny dome, and then his flannel shirt. revealing a massive amount of thick, dark pelt. He turned to toss the shirt over his coat; his backside was similarly, but more sparsely, covered. I whistled softly in approval. "Damn you're hot!" I said. The idea crossed my mind that I was going to want to take my time with this furry bruiser, and I didn't want any interruptions. "Hang on; I want to see if anybody's out there..." "Fuck 'em," he said, "Let 'em watch! Get over here and fuck me!" He had pushed his pants and shorts down to his ankles I was glancing out the door as he barked his commands; the coast was still clear but the snow was indeed worsening. The white was nearly blinding. I felt assured that we would have the privacy we needed. I let the door close and removed my own shirt. Getting a sudden idea, I draped it over the electric hand dryer's button and punched it. Not as good as a clothes dryer, but it might help. Its loud noise helped to drown out the now-obnoxious and repetitive ominous weather reports. Mr. Furball and I stood in front of the urinals and began to kiss again. He then rubbed the comparatively small patch of hair on my chest, a mixture of brown and gray, and tongued my nipples. I toyed with his beard as he did, using it as a sort of handle to guide his tongue. Slowly I moved his licking action downward to the fur around my belly button where his intensity seemed to grow with my heightening pleasure. "I'm gonna suck you for a minute, but don't shoot - I want it up my ass!" I released my grasp on his beard and pushed the smooth round dome of his head downward. He was clearly in the same frame of mind I had been moments ago, possessed by some sort of auto-pilot program that was in full charge of behavior. He dropped to his knees and pulled my jeans down further. In a simultaneous motion, his mouth wrapped around my straining cock. His frenzied tongue treated my dick to the same pleasure I had experienced with his kiss. There was no way I could piss now, but I was afraid I might blow my load. Then, without warning, the oral massage stopped and he swiftly spit in his hand. My cock raged at the sight, and dripped slightly in anticipation of the fuck I was about to deliver. The hand dryer stopped a moment later, but it could wait. The scratchy voice above seemed suddenly louder. With a look of concentration on his face, my still-squatting playmate reached behind him and noisily lubed his asshole with his spit. He then spit in his hand again, and offered it to me for a contribution. As the last string of saliva broke from my lips, he resumed his lubrication. I licked the top of beautifully bald head as he worked his fingers to loosen his ass for me. It felt deliciously warm and tasted deliciously salty. "OK," he announced, "I'm ready." Standing up, he turned to face the urinals and leaned over, bracing himself with a hand upon the top of two adjacent ones. Their placement was ideal for putting his ass at a fuckable height for me. Placing one hand on his hairy hip, I grabbed my pulsing dick, aimed for the bullsye and started to toy with his fuckhole. "Shove it in! Hard!" he growled into the concrete wall. As I plunged into him, he cried out in pain. "Stop!" he pleaded. I was about halfway in, and froze. He wasn't ready. I backed out slowly, stroking his furry flank with my hands as I did. "Hold tight," I said, "I'm gonna prep you some more." He said nothing, but remained in his position. I dropped to my knees and spread his cheeks gently. I caressed each fuzzy mound with my own furry face, and began to lick the inside of his butt crack. His man-scent was euphoric and drove my tongue home to his still-smarting hole. It probed and licked, rewarding me with a taste sensation beyond that of his scent. I needed more, and plowed deeper with my tongue. Moans into the wall told me my buddy was feeling better. I continued to work his hot ass with my tongue, pushing my face as hard as I could for maximum probing. I continued to rim until he started to open involuntarily. Giving his shithole a final kiss, I stuck a finger in my mouth and then slipped it easily inside him. I spit on his crack and slipped a second, then third finger up his chute. That's when he started begging again. "Now!" he gasped "Give it to me! I pulled my fingers out, rubbed them on my cock, then rammed it hard and fast. "Oh yeah!" he groaned. I held him pinned for just a moment, then started pumping slowly. My pubic hair ground into his ass on the downstrokes sending me into a mechanical frenzy. "Harder!" he gasped. I grabbed his hips and dug in, the feel of his hairy skin sending me even higher. I exploded as my cock slammed his prostate and spewed jet after jet of pent-up sperm into his shit chute . My pumping continued as the orgasmic rush blossomed again and again, forcing me to to ride him until the feeling finally subsided. As I plunged into him for the final time I leaned forward and rested on his back, My hands wrapped his chest and stroked his fur. I began to kiss his back and nip at his carpet of hair. "Don't pull out," he said softly. "I want your piss, too." I felt his weight shift slightly as he prepared to be filled. My throbbing cock was still erect and I was still deep inside him. After just a moment of concentration I could feel the flow of urine begin. He could feel it, too, and began repeating his favorite phrase. I grabbed his butt cheeks and rubbed them as I filled him up. Suddenly I began to feel loose inside him, and detected a warm flow around the base of my cock - he was starting to leak. We both froze as the metal door grated open and the room filled with light. To be continued... Rest Stop Slut Ch. 03 The situation was awkward at best; I stood nearly nude in a public restroom - butt-fucking a nearly butt-naked stranger - when our sexual reverie was interrupted by the noisy opening of the door... My heart began to race. After a moment's hesitation, I turned toward the entry. The figure of an elderly man stood motionless. His form was darkened in the comparatively bright glare of the daylight behind him. "Oh dear God..." he rasped, and backed away as though having witnessed the aftermath of a particularly gruesome mass murder. My dick shriveled instantly, breaking my union with my newfound friend. I yanked up my pants, zipped and buckled up, and Mr. Furball scurried into a stall, noisily slamming the door behind him. My shirt was across the room, near the faltering man who continued backing away. I suddenly felt very cold. Horrible noises emanated from the stall as my fuck-buddy purged and cleaned quite audibly. "It's OK," I offered feebly, thinking the guy might have a coronary on the spot. He said nothing more, but continued to back away and through the door which had not closed fully. I watched as the man staggered through the snow to his empty car. "He's leaving," I announce to Mr. Furball. More noises from the stall. "Good." he gasped. I grabbed my shirt, still damp, and sniffed it. It didn't smell very presentable. Taking it to the sink, I began to wash it aggressively. Despite the presence of both hot and cold faucets, only cold water came out. I used hand soap to wash, and rinsed thoroughly before wringing it out as tightly as possible. Returning to the hand dryer, I turned the grille to warm both myself and the wrinkled shirt. Mr. Furball emerged from the stall and washed his hands. "That was fun," he said, "but I guess it's time to go." "Yup," I agreed, "that was kind of what I was thinking." He gave me a small card. "I'm Jim," he said. "Gimme a call sometime." I told him my name as I took the card. He gave me a final kiss which I returned vigorously. We explored each other's mouths for a few luxurious moments before he broke our embrace. "Be careful out there!" he said, and turned to disappear into the still-raging snowstorm. Left alone, the concrete building seemed colder than before. I struggled for what seemed an eternity to dry my shirt but progress was slight. The shirt was warm, though not fully dry, when I hurried into it. I just wanted to get back on the road as quickly as possible. I tucked it in and walked over to the stall to retrieve my coat as the monotone weather forecast continued to drone from above. Panic flooded over me as the outside door opened once again. I whirled, expecting to see the old man, or the highway patrol, or some other unwanted diversion. "Hi! Nice weather today, huh?" I was stunned to see a tall, good-looking guy of about 30 sporting a big mustache and several days of stubble. "Yeah, great..." I said blankly. My horniness returned quickly. I was stunned as he calmly unzipped his pants and pulled out his long and stiffening dick. "I need this sucked off." he announced casually, and looked me in the eye knowingly. "You've been here a while;" he continued, " and your car is covered with snow. You been sucking a lot of cock today?" He stared straight into my eyes with a taunting look. This has got to be a trap, I thought. He's a cop. This is too weird. I worked myself into my coat silently, trying to figure out a response. "Just taking a shit," I said. I started to leave when he grabbed my arm. "Suck me, faggot!" I tried to wrench my arm away, but his grasp was strong. "You smell like piss, you pig. I bet you'd like me to piss on you, wouldn't you, cocksucker?" Now my heart was really racing. "NO!" I yelled, "Let go of me!" I swung my free arm in a quick aim for his face, a move he anticipated and skillfully blocked. He pushed me against the stall and held me pinned. Again the metal door grated open, this time to my utter relief. "HELP ME!" I yelled. My attacker didn't flinch; rather, he leaned into me and repeated his demand. "Suck me off, faggot..." he growled. My mind raced as I struggled to see who had come in. Surely someone would stop this wacko. "Knock it off, Ben, you've had your fun." It was Jim. Ben released his grasp. "Sorry," he said, "I got carried away." My mind reeled as I tried to comprehend the situation. "Ben's my partner," Jim said. "He was in our rig the whole time. He was coming in as I was leaving, and I told him what we did! He just wanted to have some fun with you, too. I came back to see how you two were doing and to join in..." Jim approached us and squatted before Ben, opening his mouth wide. I just stared, my mind still reeling. Ben shoved his dick in Jim's still-hungry mouth and gave me a wink. Kinky, I thought, but maybe this isn't so bad after all. Jim motioned for me to join him. Ben dropped his pants and guided me to his huge cock. Jim lapped one side while I tongued the other. Ben moaned with pleasure. Soon Jim and I were kissing each other again, this time with Ben's swollen cock head fucking our mouths simultaneously. Ben stroked his ample shaft and grabbed his nuts, tugging at them as I continued to kiss his dick and Jim's furry face. We both braced as Ben's motions became more frantic; I tongued and probed the underside of his shaft while Jim lapped the head. "Uhhhhhnnngggggggg!" Ben gasped as his jizz began to spray. Jim and I both fed greedily at his head while Ben's hand pumped more and more onto our faces and into our mouths. I grabbed onto Ben's leg tightly as the last few drops emerged. I looked up to see a look of total and dream-like satisfaction on his face. He helped us both up and and laughed. "You guys are a mess! Kiss me, both of you!" The three of us swapped spit and spunk for several minutes until all traces were gone. "You're weird, and probably crazy, but that was fun." I said. "All of the above," Ben agreed. "Sorry to have scared you, and thanks for taking care of us." "Time to go - for real this time!" Jim said, "Give us a call sometime; there's more where that came from! As the three of us stepped out into the snow, another traveler was approaching us on the walk. Jim gave me a sideways glance. "No!" I said sternly. "Nice day!" the newcomer said, and we all laughed. Indeed, it was a very nice day.