Along the Flint Lance Vargas

Every adjuster in the Atlanta office was mobilized, and I found myself driving along the Flint River in Middle Georgia far away from my urban comfort.

The flooding had been extensive so I was keeping an eye out for damage. That coupled with driving through unfamiliar territory I was keen to detail in the landscape, which consisted mostly of the river on one side and woods and the odd farm or shack on the other.

It was as I was passing one of those shacks that something or someone caught my eye. Actually, it was the only human being I had seen for the past hour, and that includes any other vehicle on the road.

I saw him near the shack through the trees - a tall black man dressed in denim bib overalls, and he was simply standing still looking at the road. Or so I thought. I caught the action out of the corner of my eye, and it took a second for my brain to register.

Was he masturbating? Although a fleeting glimpse, I could almost swear he was pleasuring himself out in the open. That couldn't be right. I had to turn around, I thought.

"Had to turn around? Why in the world would I have to turn around? Why do I need to substantiate that a strange black man is jacking off?" my mind asked. Because I had to.

Sure enough, I found myself slowing down and making a Y turn on the narrow highway giving little heed to those questions going through my head.

I drove slowly back trying to retrace my steps, trying to remember which side of the shack he was on, or if I had even seen anyone. And my mind continued the questions, "what was I going to do when I found him?"

The sight of the overalls finally made me pay attention to those thoughts.

"Well, there he is. Now what?"

"Wait a minute, I'm slowing down? Why?"

I stopped the car and turned off the engine. He saw me, but whatever he was doing it didn't faze him one bit as he stayed in place with his arm moving back and forth.

"I've unbuckled my seatbelt! Surely, I'm not thinking of ..."

I exited the car and began walking toward him. He simply stared at me with no trace of emotion on his face.

I nodded at him as I walked away from the car but he did not acknowledge.

I tried thinking up a story why I needed to stop and see him, but my mind was completely occupied by trying to see if he was doing what I thought he was doing.

He was.

As I approached him I saw that one strap of his overalls was undone and the side was completely unsnapped and flapped over exposing his penis, or more correctly, exposing his rather large and long horse dick.

He was a young man, an older boy with very dark skin that glistened with a sheen of sweat and shone in the tree filtered rays of sun. He was stroking an erection that was at the very least nine inches long, possibly ten, and so wide his hand barely fit around it. It too glistened in the sunlight.

I was hypnotized watching his hand going back and forth from his uncircumcised head to what I could see of his ball sack. Short curls of black hair peeked from behind the flap.

The only noise was his labored breathing. He looked only at me as I stared at his huge cock.

Without an invitation and violating personal space and common sense I reached a hand toward his crotch.

He removed his hand letting his dick wobble in suspended animation as if defying gravity. I gaped at his magnificence in all its glory unencumbered by support. But its magnetism was too great, and my hand was drawn to it.

It was apparent my hand was smaller than his and I could barely grasp it completely. I felt him jerk slightly as I touched him, but he remained still.

I pulled the black flesh back exposing a pink head the size of an apple. He groaned slightly.

I covered the head again with the return stroke, and continued the procedure. I glanced at his face as I pulled back and forth on that black beast. His eyes were closing, and I continued my ministrations.

I enlisted my other hand to help bring the deliberations to its intended fruition, and now both hands were working this beast that I dubbed Donkey Dong. I still marveled at the sheer mass of this penis, but penis sounded too shallow a term for something so massive.

It could have been imagination, but I swear I felt him growing larger. His breathing became shallower.

The droplet on his tip grew larger, fell and was replaced by another.

I did not speed up or slow down but maintained a steady pace. I tried to grip him firmer, but I was already having difficulty just managing his erection.

He moved slightly, and I became concerned I was making him uncomfortable. Instead, he shrugged the remaining strap from his shoulder, and his overalls fell to his ankles exposing everything above.

He was so muscled that I was again in awe of him and his perfectly sculpted pecs and washboard stomach. This young boy was a worker who worked hard.

And this huge dick protruded from his groin sparsely surrounded by hair. His balls hung low and swung freely beneath my motions. He began to spread his knees and bend them slightly.

I heard a low guttural growl and with the slightest warning I saw his ejaculate explode from the tip of his dick. His semen flew in front of him, and I was amazed at the volume of each volley that hit the leaves on the ground.

He grunted at each emission until it finally subsided. Still not a word was spoken.

I found myself standing there with spent spunk on my hand and a softening dick slipping from my grasp.

I gingerly reached for my handkerchief in my back pocket and wiped my hand. He reached down and grabbed his overalls not saying a word or even acknowledging my presence.

That was my cue to leave, and I headed through the tree line to my car. I was acutely aware of my own erection tenting my pants.

My mind returned with more questions, "I'm a married white male with three children, a house in the suburbs and the hots for that little blonde secretary. What the hell did I just do? And why am I so horny right now?"

I was very horny, and I knew there was only one thing to do. I sat in my car and unzipped my pants. I fished my erection from my fly and began to stroke it. I closed my eyes letting the feeling build.

Then I heard the crack of twigs and looked quickly to see my new friend was walking slowly toward the car. He stopped when I saw him, but he gazed at my lap. No sign of emotion was apparent on his face. He simply watched.

When I felt my balls begin to churn I unsnapped my pants and unbuckled my belt. Then I stepped out of my car and stood up letting my pants fall.

Almost immediately I came and shot into the ditch on the side of the road. It was powerful and the feeling from the tip of my dick too deep in my crotch was almost too intense. I began to shake.

When I finished I shook the last drop from the tip of my dick.

I looked at him and he gave me a slight smile. Then he walked back to the shack.

After straightening myself I turned the car around and headed South with one thought in mind: "What you do when no one is looking is who you really are."

Did I really have the hots for that little blonde? Or did the mail boy catch my eye. I don't think I cared which at this point.