GE-191 Fast Hard Trucker
GE-191
Fast Hard Trucker
Gay Erotica
GE-191
Ed Grosshammer
(same as HIS69-135)
$3.95
GE-191
Fast Hard Trucker
Gay Erotica
GE-191
Ed Grosshammer
(same as HIS69-135)
$3.95
Excerpt
The larger of the three strangers began pulling off his boots. Mart watched fascinated as the other two invaders also began undressing. They piled boots and Levi’s in one corner of the wall-to-wall mattress. Mart realized they might still decide to kill him—him and the other two—but they were going to do something else first. He wondered what it would be. There was an intense deadly silence and, for the first time in his life, Mart understood the strange bond that exists between cat and mouse. He supposed he ought to plead, struggle. He could do nothing but lie there bound and waiting. What are they going to do?
Silently he studied the three truckers who had invaded this leopard-skin love nest. They were big men, each one larger than himself. Each had a mustache and dark brown hair. The largest of the three had a Fu Manchu that curled down over the corners of his mouth. He looked mean. He was, Mart suddenly realized, one of the men who had given that ragged cheer when he had left the diner with the waitress.
Still not talking, the trio continued undressing, piling clothes in the corner of the camper. The biggest one, with the Fu Manchu mustache, had a wide, muscle-corded chest matted with hair of the same dark brown color. His waist was narrow for such a large man. His pubic patch was lush and thickly curled, its glossy ringlets half concealing his huge fuck machinery.
Mart’s unwilling eyes focussed on that machinery which hung at, the apex of thick-muscled thighs. The stranger’s balls were large and well furred, scrotum covered with thick curly hair. His cock…
It was the most colossal fuck staff Mart could ever recall having seen on a human being. It was, he decided, something originally designed for a small horse. The shank was long, thick, and heavily veined. The head was something else. It was somewhere between golf and tennis ball size. After a moment’s reflection, Mart realized that was not a proper description at all. With the split across its bottom, the head of Fu Manchu’s cock looked more like a peach. Like a peach with a foreskin half peeled back to reveal the glistening outlines of that colossal knob. Why, Mart wondered, did I compare it with a peach? Peaches were something one ate.
Slowly he realized that the tremendous fuck tool that dangled and swung each time the stranger moved undressing—it wasn’t even in full erection yet. Good God, he thought, what’ll it be like if that sonofabitch ever gets really turned on?
Mart remembered his first view of the other two who lay bound beside him, how his cock had risen with explosive suddenness at the sight of that slim, elegant boy in the blue body stocking. That must be what this stranger wanted. It was what Mart had wanted, whether he was willing to admit it or not.
He felt sorry for the lithe boy. This man was so big, the boy so small. He didn’t know what was going to happen, but whatever, it was going to hurt the boy. The trio of strangers continued undressing. They were in no hurry. Slowly, taking infinite care, they removed each garment, folded it carefully and stacked it out of the way in one corner of the wall-to-wall leopard-skin mattress.
What have I done to deserve this? Mart tried to remember. He didn’t really know. All his life he had gone through the motions, had tried to be just like everybody else. Now, without even knowing what it was all about, he was going to be treated like a queer. Those sonsofbitches were going to kill him.
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