Ride, Ride, Ride Hitchin' a ride

 Whew!

Now this heat wave, and pandemic are over,  I can get back in the saddle.

At 35, (and 20 added pounds,) the old baby-faced, hitchhiking coyness, "...sorry I don't  have any money, I'm trying to get to my Aunt's to get some...I'd  do anything for a lift...." (Usually a little roadhead, and jism taste was all, but, occasionally, a butt plundering happened. ("Careful, with that monster dick, hoss! I still gotta walk after we're done!")

Yeah, ...now it's gonna be way more blunt.

1. No mention of any price, means no prostitution charges. They know I have no money, and sometimes they give me $20 or $100...but, as a gift.

2. Offer IF THEY WANT and consensual head is on the table. Bareback blowjobs, but, condom-only, ass-play...that usually limits the obligation.

So my Aunt always lives in some city, around 45 miles ahead, of wherever I happen to be picked up,...and I can travel as far as 300 mile hitches, both ways, on my days off...though I usually keep it to only 150.

After giving 3 blowjobs out, and 3 back...I'm usually spent. After all a Craftsman doesn't like his art to suffer.

Most men are average hung 3"-6" (7.5cm to 15cm), and usually cut. Unless they are really old, 70 and up, or really young, under 25, then, you get pretty lucky.

When I started hitchin' to suck dick, just out of High Scool, 1 out of 10 had the unicorn rare, intact foreskin.

But, if the guy is at all younger than me, or way over 65, it's a 50/50 gamble, provided you're not in Ohio or Wisconsin...where you'd think circ' was a state law or something!

But, I digress.

I had never been in a Teslar before, and as the guy poured his coffee, and stirred, it stayed in lane even along curves!

I suggested, a blowjob, for the ride, and the short young fella, 23-ish on a good day, unzipped, and flopped out his nuts, and uncut spike.

"Where y'all from?"

"Born in Tullahoma, Tennessee, but work in Lawton..." (Ah, the short hair! Army dude, first hitch.)

"A dick that big, I thought you were a Navy, guy." (Having goaded his dander, I pounced mouth-first onto the self-supporting, if half-soft rod.)

It throbbed a few pulses as I lip-stroked the beauty, and further stiffened into a straining core, in a velvet sheath. He rubbed an MP baton along my cheek.

(Yes, sir, I'll get you off!)

It was nice, him being able to concentrate on the feeling, without the distraction of speed, aiming, and general assholes, to contend with.

I was able to fit the entire shaft into my mouth and throat, as long as I didn't need to breathe, as I did so. I could tell, it inched him close to an orgasm. So, I backed off played with the baren balls, (I usually like a few scraggly hairs, on them, if not outright covered in fur.)

He was Edging, "man, this is the hardest I have been, without a cockring in a few years!"

(You're using a cockring, at your age, ...really?)

I kept up the foreskin worship, and  when I circled my tongue inside, I got the tang-pang of Jism shot thoroughly inside my eager mouth.

He went out of his way to drop me off in Duncan, so I had him drop me at the Old Steam Locomotive. He left me with a spot of cash, and headed, back North.

I hiked a few short blocks to highway 7, and a rock truck slowed as it was on the merge-ramp, the old-time 75-ish fella, flung open a door, "climb on in. How far, d'ya go?"

"I am Heading to I-35, ...wish I had some cash for gas to offer....nice rig! Company's?"

The old fart, dropped one hand to his lap, fingers nervously raking at his balls' pantlegged bulge, "No, I own it. Bought n paid fer her."

He continued as I looked at his button fly, with only one button fastened..."I guess you're heading with me, East to Dole-Leases anyway...."

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