Drillin' the Driller -- Part 1
This is a fictional story between 2 adult males set in Wyoming in the 1980s. While I did work in construction and oil drilling rigs in my younger days, I used that experience for creating the setting and this is a work of fiction. Pretty much. More or less. And please consider supporting Nifty so that we may continue to enjoy these stories: https://donate.nifty.org/
It was late January 1989; I'd been in Rock Springs Wyoming, for a couple of months now. Things were going pretty well. I was the deck hand on an oil drilling rig. I was 22, carefree and happy to be on my own. I'm right at 6 feet tall with an athletic build, with long dark hair. Longer hair than most of the redneck construction and oil workers around these parts liked, but my attitude was fuck em' if they didn't like it. I'm a lover, not a fighter, but I can take care of myself if needed. One thing that set me apart from those around me is that I knew I had a decided preference for boi pussy. I'm very `straight looking and acting', which means that no one knew of my preference unless I wanted them to know. And I only wanted them to know when I was ready to make a move on them.
I'd grown up in Denver and in high school I had a good friend who I `messed around' with regularly. I think it was Mike who started things with a "I'll show you mine if you show me yours', and that quickly progressed to jerking each other off and then sucking each other off, and then to fucking. Mike loved getting the daylights fucked out of him, and I loved giving it to him. But Mike's parents were pretty well to do, and after high school Mike went off to some fancy college back east while I stayed in Denver and started working in construction. I had dated girls in high school and fucked a few, but had decided fucking guys was just a hell of a lot more fun.
It was another dude on my construction crew who told me about oil drilling rigs in western Colorado and Wyoming and how it paid almost twice as much as I was making working construction in Denver. I was still living at home with my parents, and heading out on my own making twice the money sounded like a damn good idea. So, I headed out to Craig Colorado. I quickly got hired on to a drilling crew as a "greenhorn", someone new to the drilling business, and the low man on the totem pole, meaning I got all the grunt work. But I enjoyed the work and the pay even more, and loved being out on my own. You had to be damn careful with approaching guys for some man-on-man fun, but every now and then I'd get lucky. I'd finally turned 21, and found that if I plied them with beer and pot it stacked the deck in my favor.
When we finished the well in Craig, Sam, my driller, asked if I'd be interested in joining a crew in Rock Springs Wyoming. I shrugged my shoulders and said "Yeah, I guess, why?" He told me his nephew Chad was a driller on a rig there, his first job as a driller, and he could use a good hand, and he thought I was a good worker. So, I agreed; he gave me the name of the motel where Chad was staying at, and I headed off to Rock Springs.
After checking at the motel office for Chad's room number I knocked on the door. A tall, lanky guy with closely cropped dark blonde hair opened the door and looked me over. "Yeah?" he began, "sompin' I can do for you?". I introduced myself. "I'm Dave Parker. I was working for your uncle, Sam Snead, on a rig down in Craig. We finished the well and Sam told me you might be looking for a good hand. I'm a hard worker, I put in an honest day's work for an honest day's pay. Chad continued to look me over, considering, and then broke into a smile and stuck out his hand. "Name's Chad Amboy, nice to meet you, Dave. Yeah, Sam called and told me you'd be coming. Come on in".
I followed Chad into his room, and we sat down at a small kitchenette table. I looked around the room, there were two double beds and what appeared to be a bathroom off at the end, and small kitchenette with counter and a sink, a small under counter refrigerator, and the small table with two chairs we were sitting at. The walls were covered in knotty pine paneling. "Nice room" I complimented. "Thanks" Chad began, "I was lucky to get it. Places to stay are tight right now in Rock Springs. They're building a coal fired power plant outside of town, besides a bunch of oil drilling rigs. You got a place to stay?". I shook my head, "No, I just got into town. The lady at the desk did tell me they were full up". "Yep" Chad nodded. "You might have to stay over at Green River, 30 miles down the road, to find a place to stay". He stroked his chin, considering. "Tell you what" he began, "if you wanna pay half the rent you can stay here and bunk with me, it's got two double beds". "Oh no!" I immediately protested, "I couldn't intrude on you like that, I'm sure I'll find a place". I looked into his green eyes and then quickly looked down. I had the distinct impression I could be in trouble here, Chad was hot as hell and I knew it would be a struggle to not give myself away, to not give any hint that I thought he was hot. "You don't snore, do you?" Chad laughed, or fart a lot?". "No, no" I chuckled, "once my head hits the pillow I'm out for the night. And as long as I stay away from beans I don't fart too much". Chad reached across the table to shake my hand. "Done deal, then. You're hired, and we'll bunk together".
We went out for a steak at a diner and had a couple of beers first. Chad was on the skinny side, but he had a nice round little butt; I'd sneaked a couple of peeks as we walked to his pickup and then into the diner. His skin was naturally pale, the kind that never tanned. His green eyes flashed with a slight look of mischief. His face was spotted with freckles, his cheeks were blushed with red, giving that wholesome, fresh kind of look. The skin of his face was smooth, covered with light peach fuzz. I don't think he had to shave more than once a week. I guess you could sum Chad up as having that wholesome, all-American boy next door kind of look. But there were a couple of things about Chad that would have immediately disqualified him for any all-American boy contest, if they ever held such a thing.
The first thing about Chad was that he had a real gutter mouth. The word "fuck" seemed to be about a fourth of his limited vocabulary. "The fucking motherfucker really fucked that fucking thing up" was a typical Chad expression. I kind of figured he talked that way to try to sound 'tougher', to overshadow his boyish good looks.
A second thing about Chad was that he was a shameless braggart, a self-proclaimed God's gift to women. If you believe half of what Chad claimed, he'd screwed every woman in New Mexico worth screwing, and had screwed more than a few who weren't worth a fuck, out of an act of kindness. But Chad didn't speak about women in very kindly terms. They were always "bitches", "cunts', 'sluts' and 'whores' to him. And, while he boasted of how many women he'd had, I noticed it was always in the past, and somewhere else. For all his bragging of conquests, he sure didn't seem to have anything going for him here in Rock Springs.
Another thing about Chad was that he was an easy drunk, two beers already had him slurring his words. The other interesting thing about Chad was that he seemed to have a fixation about men's asses, usually his own, and something going in them. Guys he didn't like were usually described as butt fuckers', 'dumb butt fuckers', or goddam cornholers'. If Chad had gotten a bad deal on something, he would say "yeah, I really took it up the ass on that one and had to bite the pillow", or "yeah, the guy really stuck it to me on that one" and "I really got shafted that time". For someone that claimed to be so hot for women, he sure seemed to have anal sex on his mind a lot. When I added it all up I suspected that Chad Amboy, all-American boy and self-proclaimed God's gift to women on the outside, was really a frightened little homo boy on the inside. I figured what Chad Amboy needed was a good hard dick up the ass and a nice, long fuck to put him in touch with his inner self. But I'm not going to screw things up and try to fuck my boss, I kept telling myself.
Work went fine the next couple of weeks, the other guys on the crew were hard workers, and we made a good crew. We were driving back into town after the swing shift out at the rig. Chad was sitting in the back with me, blabbering away. He was telling me about how his truck had broken down and, according to Chad, the garage owner had really "fucked him in the ass" on the repair bill. He owed $250 bucks, and was without truck and broke until payday. He wanted to get drunk that night. It was after midnight when we got back to our place with two twelve packs of beer. Chad and I sat at the kitchen table, chugging down beers and talking story. Well, Chad chugged down the beers; he guzzled down four in the first half hour, and already began to look glassy eyed, and slurred his speech. I wasn't much of a drinker, but I didn't want Chad to know I wasn't keeping up with him, so every time I'd get up to go take a leak I'd dump most of my can of beer down the toilet. Chad was going on and on, bragging about some chick he had balled back home in Gallop New Mexico. He claimed she gave the best head he'd ever had. I pulled out a joint, which I much preferred to beer, lit it, and offered him some.
"Naw, naw, that's alright" he told me. "I don't mind if you go ahead and smoke that 'wacky tabaccy', but it's just not for me. I tried it once. This other chick I was ballin' once offered it to me, and I tried it. Made me higher than shit, I didn't remember a thing I did the next day". Interesting, I thought to myself, I definitely need to get him high. "Don't be such a pussy" I challenged, "take a hit". Chad glared at me, and then reached across and toke the joint. He took a large hit, held it in, and then took another hit before handing it back to me.
"Hey" I said, taking advantage of the pause as he held his hit in. "You wanna play some cards? How about a game or two of poker?"
"Sure, that sounds cool, little buddy" he readily agreed. Chad had taken to calling me "little buddy" recently, and it annoyed the hell out of me; we were both about the same size and age. I ignored it, and went to dig out a deck of cards. I returned to the table and began to shuffle. "How about 5 card draw?" I suggested. "One dollar ante, and minimum bet."
"Great" he replied. Then he remembered he had no money. "Oh, well, you know I'm broke 'till payday, though. You'll have to spot me the cash 'till then."
"No way, dude" I protested. "You think I'm going to spot you until payday? No thanks, you'll welch on your bet".
"Aw, man, you no I'm good for it, little buddy," he slurred. I shook my head firmly. "Well, to hell with you, then" he said. "We'll just have to play without money if you don't want to front me."
"Aw, it's no fun to play poker without betting" I complained. "That's like going to church and not praying. What's the point?"
"Well" he said, shrugging his shoulders. "Want do you want to do, then?"
"Well . . ." I began slowly, stroking my chin, considering, and preparing my smoothest, best conning voice. "It would be a lot more fun if we had a couple of chicks here . . . . but, well, we could play strip poker, I guess. At least it would make it more interesting, and it won't cost us anything."
"Strip poker?" he repeated, with obvious surprise. "With you?" he considered, his beer- dulled senses not reacting too quickly. "You're right, it would be a lot more fun if we had a couple of chicks to play strip poker with. I dunno." He shrugged his shoulders. "Well, I guess so. Like you say, it won't cost us anything. How do you want to play it?
"Well, we just use our clothes for poker chips" I explained readily. "We assign them chip values, and we just bet 'em just like poker chips. Shoes and socks are all worth $5 each. It's $5 ante, $5 minimum bet. Your shirt is worth $10, undershirt $15. Pants are $20, undershorts are worth $25".
"Well, I dunno . .. . " Chad said slowly, wavering.
"That's OK, man, I said quickly. "If you're too chickenshit, that's OK" I bluffed. "No, no, wait!" Chad protested. "Hang on here. No need to be in such a rush; I'm just starting to get a good buzz on here. Me? Chickenshit? Hell, it'll be a cold day in hell before I take it in the ass from you. I can kick your ass in poker anytime. Deal 'em!"
I shuffled and dealt the cards. We played several hands pretty evenly. I got Chad's shoes, socks and shirt at one point, and then he won them back. He chugged down the beers constantly. The first twelve pack was gone already. I'd cut back my dumping out my beers to conserve; Chad was too far gone to notice I wasn't keeping up with him anyway. I rolled another joint, and fired it up.
"Let me have some more of that" he slurred, taking me by surprise. I handed it
to him quickly, though, and he inhaled deeply, like a pro. "I guess I have smoked it a couple of times" he admitted. "Actually, I do kinda like it, but it does make me really high. I lose control, and get myself into trouble."
"Oh really?" I asked, reaching to take the joint back. "What kind of trouble?"
"Oh, nothing" Chad quickly responded. He shrugged his shoulders. "It's sometimes . . . it, uh, makes me too high and I do things I shouldn't do, and then can't remember what I did the next day."
"Well, that doesn't sound like trouble to me" I said. "Hell, anything you can't remember the next day you can always deny, and say it never happened" I told him, planting the seed for him. And I decided right then and there that I was going to go for it.
Chad laughed. The pot really seemed to relax him, and he shed his tough guy act. We began to laugh and tease each other, taunting the other would 'lose his ass' on the next hand. Finally, Chad had a luck streak, wining several hands in a row. I was down to just my undershorts, worth $25. Chad seemed to think he had an especially strong hand, and kept raising the bet. After drawing two cards, he confidently raised the bet to $50.
"Fifty bucks!" I complained. "You can't do that! I only have my undershorts, $25!"
"Guess you'll have to fold then, little buddy" Chad said, smirking. "I guess you'll have to be in the buff the rest of the night."
"Come on, man!" I complained. I considered the options. "Give me a loan, Chad. Just loan me my pants back for this hand. Give me a break here."
"What do you have for collateral for a loan?" Chad queried, an amused look in his eyes.
"Whatever you want, man" I assured him.
"Well, then, I'll tell you what" Chad began slowly, deliberately. "If you want a 'loan' to match my bet, you can bet a blow job." He paused, to watch my reaction. I gulped, in faked alarm. "You win the hand, you get all your clothes back" he continued, "You lose, you gotta suck my dick. And," he added, you'd better be good at it."
"Aw man," I complained. "I can't do that"
"Take it or leave it" Chad said simply.
"Shit!" I swore loudly. "Fine. OK. No way you're going to beat this hand. You're on."
Chad smiled. "OK, so what do you got?"
"Pair of Jacks" I declared confidently, laying the cards down on the table. "Guess I get my clothes back."
"Not so fast" Chad chided. "Looks to me like you gotta suck my dick" he told me, as he laid his cards down. The three queens seemed to be laughing at me. "And" Chad continued, "you can start by handing over your undershorts I just won."
"God damnit!" I swore. I continued to stare forlornly at his cards. I couldn't appear too eager, or it would blow the whole game plan.
"Come on, come on. Pay up! Let's have those undershorts" Chad demanded.
"Sonnabitch" I muttered, standing up. I jerked my undershorts down, pulled them off, and threw them in Chad's direction. I looked down, checking my cock quickly. I hoped it wasn't hard, giving me away. Fortunately, it was just beginning to stiffen, the thick head of my cock hanging down. While pretty average in the dick department, I always liked the way my dick looked. Maybe 7" when hard as a rock, it was nice and thick. The circumcised head was wide and round. I looked up, to see Chad staring at my hardening dick. "Like what you see?" I teased.
"Just checking out the competition" Chad assured me. "And it doesn't look like I have any" he added confidently.
"Oh yeah?" I chuckled. "Well, let's see what you've got."
Chad shrugged his shoulders. "Why not? You're going to be choking on it in a minute." He stood up and peeled off his t-shirt. He unbuckled his belt, unzipped, and pulled off his jeans and undershorts in one swift motion. He kicked them free from his feet, straitened up, and there it was. The son of a bitch was already hard as a rock. His stiff cock pointed out a good 9", and was at least 2" thick. It was straight as an arrow, capped by bulbous angry red head. His balls were huge, hanging freely down from his cock. It was all nestled in a thatch of thick light brown pubes. While Chad was smooth chested, a trail of light brown hair trailed from his navel down into the thatch of pubic hair. I gulped. It was all much better than I had imagined from my peaks I'd sneaked while he had stripped to take a shower.
"Oh, don't let it scare you" Chad said, misreading my thoughts. "That's the reaction I usually get - from chicks. But, they manage to handle it. You will, too. Come here." He coaxed. "Come over here and suck my dick, little buddy."
"Aw man," I protested. "I can't do this. I can't suck your dick" I lied. "Please? Please don't make me do this."
"You lost, fair and square," he said firmly. "You're the dumb son of a bitch who bet a blow job. Now it's time to pay up." He sat down and spread his legs widely. "Come on, Dave. Suck on it for me. Suck on it real good for me."
I stepped toward Chad, hesitatingly. His cock pointed out at me, painfully stiff. I felt my own cock twitch in anticipation. Chad noticed it. "Looks to me like your cock likes the idea of all this" he observed. "Hmmm? You like the idea of sucking my dick, little buddy?"
"Fuck you" I told him.
"Oh yeah?" Chad challenged. "I bet you'd like that, to fuck my sweet little ass. Hell, you'd probably like it so much you'd never go back to women." Chad's voice was becoming a hoarse, forced whisper. I knew he was pretty high from all the beers, and even higher from the pot he had smoked. But now he was sounding like he was drunk, drunk with lust. "Well, too bad you won't get a crack at my ass. You're going to suck my dick instead. Come on now, suck my dick, damn it."
I lowered myself to my knees. My face was inches away from his dick. I opened my mouth tentatively, and began to press forward. I stopped when my lips were almost touching the head of his dick, pulled back, and looked up at Chad.
"Please?" I whispered pleadingly. "Please, Chad? Please don't make me do this."
"I don't care," Chad whispered hoarsely. "You're gonna have to do it."
He reached out with his arm, placed his hand on the back of my head, and pulled me toward him. My lips brushed the head of his dick. I opened my mouth and took the head of his dick. I sucked on it, and ran my tongue over the head. The tip of my tongue found his piss slit and pressed it open.
"Oh yeah!" Chad gasped. I pressed forward, burying more of his cock in my mouth. I swirled my tongue around the head of his cock, and sucked hungrily.
"Yeah, yeah" Chad whispered hoarsely. "Do it! Do it! Suck my cock, little buddy."
I pressed forward. The head of his cock pressed against the back of my throat, forced the opening wider, and then slid down my throat. It pressed deeper, downward, until my nose was buried in his thatch. My hand found the end of his ball sac, gripped around his balls, and gave a tug. His cock twitched in my throat. I pulled back until the head of his cock lodged at the opening of my throat, and then dove forward swiftly, ramming his cock down my throat. Then I did it again, and gain, as I pulled on Chad's balls.
"Ah, fuck!" Chad gasped. "That feels so fucking hot, man! Do it! Do it to me, man!"
I pulled back, pulling my mouth from Chad's cock, and gulped for air. I began to lick his cock, working from the head to where the head disappeared into his thatch and then worked my way back up. I wrapped my lips around the head, sucked greedily, and then worked my tongue down the other side.
"God damn!" Chad cried out in pleasure. "You are one hell of a cock sucker! You're giving me the best head I've ever had. You must have had lots of practice or something. Are your some kind of cock sucking homo or something?"
I pulled my head off of his cock, and shook my head. "No," I lied, "I've never done this before, until tonight, until you made me suck your dick." I shrugged my shoulders. "But the way I figure it, if you're going to do something, you might as well do it right and give it all you got."
"Well, you're doing it good, alright," Chad assured me. He reached out and put his hand on the back of my head and pulled me toward his rigid cock. "Give me all you got. Suck my cock."
I dove on his cock, plunging it deep into my throat. Then I pulled back until the tip of his cock was just in my mouth, sucked hungrily, and then plunged it back into my throat. Then I did it again and again. Chad gasped with pleasure. I worked my hand up his ball sac to the bottom of his cock and then explored downward, all the while slurping greedily on Chad's cock. My fingers found the opening of his ass, really close to the base of his balls. I rubbed my finger around the opening of his ass and then pressed inward, and twirled around the puckered bud. Chad opened his legs wider, giving me better access. I removed my finger and stuck it in my mouth and sucked. The taste from his hole was musky, but sweet. I coated my finger liberally with saliva, pressed against his hole, and pressed inward. His puckered hole resisted, and then relented as the tip slipped into the warmth inside his hole. Chad spasmed, and his ring clamped down around my finger. I dove down on his cock with my mouth, sucking hard, slurping loudly. Chad relaxed, spread his legs widely, and his ring relaxed around my finger. I pressed my finger inward carefully, slowly, until my knuckle pressed against his bud and then slipped in. I twirled my finger around his hole, working it back and forth. Chad slid back into the chair, giving me better access to his ass. I began to dive down on his cock with my mouth, plunging deeply, swirling my tongue around his cock, and then pulling back until his cock popped from my mouth with a loud sucking sound. Then I dove back on it, and then again and again.
Chad began to sigh softly "That feels kinda weird, your finger up my ass" he whispered. "But don't stop, keep on doing what you're doin'". I looked up at his face, his cock buried in my mouth. His head hung backward over the back of the chair. His hand was over his tit, his finger pinching and toying with his nipple. His eyes were clenched shut tightly, his mouth opened in an "O" as he moaned. He was lost in world of his own, lost in the feelings coming from his cock and his asshole. I pressed my finger into his hole as far as I could, meeting no resistance. The tip found the hardness of his prostate, and the rubbed its way around it, and poked against it. Chad stiffened. I buried my nose against his thatch, his cock buried in my throat. I felt his cock stiffen in my throat and his prostate harden against the touch of my finger. He was close to shooting his load. I pulled my finger swiftly from his hole and pulled my mouth back off his cock. His cock popped from my mouth with a loud slurping sound. I pulled away, and stood up.
"Whaaaat?" Chad stammered, opening his eyes in surprise. "What are you doing man? I was . . . . I was getting close to shooting".
"I know" I said nonchalantly. "That wasn't our bet - to get you off. Our bet was just that I had to suck your cock." I shrugged my shoulders. "I've sucked your cock. I've paid my bet. Get yourself off." I walked over to my chair, and sat down.
Chad looked me with disbelief.
To be continued . . .