MORNING RIDE By John Candu
I'm thankful for the ride. You've saved me a three-mile walk. It's a sweltering August and you said we'd beat the oppressive heat and humidity by switching color guard practice to early morning.
I'm wearing yellow jogging shorts with no underwear and a muscle shirt. The thought that I might sprout a boner in the shorts never crossed my mind.
I feel privileged to hop a ride with the assistant band director -- and in a sports convertible no less. As we pull away from the curb, you smoothly work through the gears, finally letting the back of your hand rest against my left knee as you hold on to the stick shift. You crank up of the volume of your stereo and then I feel your hand rest atop my brown thigh.
There's not much room in your Triumph, so I think nothing of the touching until your hand gently massages my leg with your fingers trailing upward toward my crotch. I feel my cock come to life. I also begin to panic, fearing that you'll see my erection. I hope I don't have the wrong idea -- your hand feels good.
You smile at me, holding eye contact as you move your hand up and down my leg. You begin to bop the steering wheel in time to the music and drum your fingers to the melody on my thigh. I drum the console as I get into the sound. You ask if I want something cold to drink as we pull into a McDonald's. Sure, I say.
You give our order at the drive-thru speaker and pull behind a long line of cars. Your hand returns to the stick shift, then to my knee.
You're saying something about how well-chiseled my body is from working out. But I can't pay attention to what you're saying with your fingers tickling my balls. My cock leaps from the leghole of my shorts -- right into your hand. There are only two cars ahead of us.
Your hand makes a fist around my shaft. You begin jacking me, and I'm helpless to stop you. I moan and arch my butt toward you. I become your slut. I begin to hunch my young hips to the rhythm of your cock-stroking hand. Your thumb rolls across my pee slit, smearing precum around and around. I'm breathing faster and you're jacking harder. I feel my cock getting harder.
Now we're only one car away from the window, and the attendant is handing a bag to the driver. She could merely gaze down and see you beating my meat. You jack my meat faster, harder, and my precum is flowing heavily. I'm on the verge of panicking at the thought of being caught -- but exhilarated as I approach orgasm. I am your willing prisoner. Anything goes.
The car ahead of us pulls away and you ease toward the window. I spurt ropes of cum onto your console. Globs of white spunk hit the stereo knobs and leather dash. Five times I spurt. The last eruption coats the stick shift. Your fist is coated with my thick white cream. You slow the car at the window as I slide my cock back into my shorts. I've left a trail of cum drops on my brown thigh and the front of my shorts. The drops will stain when they dry, and I wonder if the other kids will know... I sink deeply into the seat, panting. You pay for the drinks and slide an icy pop between my legs. I pick it up and suck the straw greedily.
You don't even wipe the cum from the stick shift. You grab it, spreading spunk with your palm, and run through the gears as we pull away. I notice your tent, and I grab your shaft through your poplin trousers. I see myself doing this as if I'm dreaming. Surely that is not my hand holding your dick. You moan softly and smile at me. I place the drink in a holder and unzip your fly. Your cock springs out. Like me, you're not wearing briefs.
Your dick is a lot bigger than mine. You're at least eight inches and fat. I lean down and take your cockmeat into my mouth, tasting a man for the first time. You put your right hand over my head as I pump my mouth up and down on your man-meat. I lick at your slit and taste your precum and run my tongue back and forth beneath your head.
You tool along slowly in third gear as I cram as much of your meat as possible down my throat. I gag and pull back, but your encourage me to go on, and I suck harder and begin jacking you with my hand. I feel you thrusting upward now, and your precum tastes so good. I am so horny and I am hard again.
You continue the gentle pressure against the back of my head, and I fight for breath as I swallow you down my throat. I hold you there a second, my nose buried in your pubes, then pull back and gasp. My head bobs up and down. You cock goes in and out. Faster. My saliva is making your cock dripping wet. I beat your meat faster as I tongue your head. I feel your cockhead flair and then you flood my mouth with cream. I drink it down, gulp after gulp of your thick cum. I feel your car make a right turn and hear the crunch of gravel beneath the tires. I lick the last drops from your cock and wipe the excess from around my mouth with a napkin.
I sit up in the nick of time as we pull alongside another car near a crowd of my classmates gathering for practice. You zip your fly and smile. As my taste buds savor the last of your cum, I look forward to the ride home.
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