So the company I worked for folded, as the economy with its cloud of hard times fogged the entity and slowly trickled into the consistency of freight, to a point where it became non existent. A week or two prior to the official announcement I fished out to the other companies after I updated my resume, and one out of Georgia, a port based entity down in Savannah, bit, as they were paying top notch money running containerized, intermodal freight in and out of places like Savannah, where it was based, as well as South Carolina, Virginia, and Maryland. Surely this was taking me out of my comfort zone, but I'd bought a new truck, a brand new home in Amarillo, and even a new RV and I needed to keep the money rolling.
"Damn, so you're really leaving the midwest," Marcus asked, as I broke the news to him once I was hired.
He was my latest, matter of fact only cock I'd been slobbering over for seven months when I was put on with the Savannah based company, as he was the center of a banner year in which my returns were astronomical due to my labor. Despite the change in company and location, I advised him that I was always prepared for something like this as I'm one to keep a backup plan for potential disasters even when things look perfect.
"The realtor is on stand by, and I got suitors for the RV, but we'll need to keep the pickup. My Ram goes wherever we go," I told him.
A week after I was hired, I put the house on the market, and a day after that, I had Sidney, a retired Army colonel and a guy I used to blow from time to time, fly into Texas to purchase the RV with cold cash, leaving nothing but for me and Marcus to grab all our things and head east.
"Honey, I've got a realtor in Savannah already on speed dial. The way I flow, things always line up perfect for I never give the opportunity for failure due to careful planning," I told my lover.
Marcus was the end piece to my life puzzle in so many ways, as I actually met him at the RV dealership that sold to me.
"Mr. Wayne, I'm Marcus, and its nice to meet you and I hope today you find what you're looking for," he said upon me stepping into RV store.
He was the fine, cologne wearing stud working as the receptionist, the first person I'd see when I entered the showroom with the thick neck and big arms showing through his suit, locking eyes with me and showing off his charm off the bat.
"Congratulations on the purchase of the new Airstream," he messaged later that evening via Grindr, as he saw me online and decided to shoot his shot.
I eyed his profile as he unlocked his photos to show off his amazing body, then laughed nervously before I took a picture of my big, round ass, bending over in front of the camera phone and sending it to him one moment, then getting pounded from behind the next.
Buddy tore my ass up good with the fattest, longest cock I'd ever played with (11 inches long, almost two inches thick), as that curved nightstick continuously hit the walls so good that I came out of my cock twice unassisted, while he bred me four times, in a matter of four hours.
"You fucking wore me out," I told him afterwards as he prepared to leave and head to his apartment.
Truth was, I was sprung, as no other man did my body like him, and it encouraged me to keep in touch, as I learned he was not only consistent in fucking, but in everything else within his life as well.
"You ever wonder if American history, is real history," he asked me maybe the second or third time we hooked up, as he met me in Oklahoma City for a weekend of fun.
Right then I knew he was the guy I wanted to be with, as I was bold enough to cut off all the good dick I had strewn from coast to coast, and even in Canada, in favor of this talented guy that was young enough to be my grandson almost. Surely he fucked me good, and sucking his cock was equally savory, but his intelligence matched his sexy, as the former Marine managed to instill discipline in this 60-plus grandfather's life at a time where I thought I finally had it all figured out. His efforts helped me upgrade my life as my confidence level rose, as he had me in the gym regularly, whether I was with him or not, I ate better, and just made better overall decisions while feeling good about everything. I made the kid quit his job, and just be my home support as he handled business affairs for me, and ultimately became my longed for home base. We'd just gotten cozy in Texas together as we settled, and though I was the sole breadwinner, he was my king, and I followed any and everything he said for he always made things better than what they were before, despite how good things were.
"Big time party before we head east," he said to me. "We sold the house!"
He called me with the bittersweet news as I loved Texas, as even my kids, despite them being far away and on their own, knew this as their getaway haven even as adults. We also had our bubbles of friends in the area that stretched as far south as Dallas, platonic friends we considered family that were stationery there that we kept in close contact with, that we'd leave behind.
"New beginnings, babe. New beginnings," he told me as I came to grips with reality.
I was already running good freight in Georgia, and we kept a good tab with the realtor there as she had us close to purchasing our brand new home, as there was nothing left to do but to close the deal with my Amarillo house, and per Marcus, throw the party.
"The house will be closed on on a Thursday. I say we throw the gathering on that Friday, and we hit the road east Saturday, the latest Sunday," he proposed.
It would be three months from when the buyer was identified and contractual things were ironed out when we'd throw the shindig, as Rodney, a buddy of mine from the neighborhood, volunteered to host the fling in his backyard. We put out invites to over 100 people, with only 20 or so being able to make it, as Rodney, a retired chef, cooked all sorts of meats on the grill, made what seemed like pounds of sides, i.e. macaroni and cheese, potato salad, collards, and even baked three cakes as his back patio deck became an instant venue on a beautiful spring afternoon. We rounded things out as I made Marcus purchase all the liquor, and "recreational goodies" for those that liked to partake, and it would be a grand time, with Rodney closing the party officially around midnight with a toast to me and Marcus.
"We're gonna miss that sky blue Freightliner rumbling down the street at three in the morning," he said, as he raised his shot glass and became emotional, without a dry eye in sight.
We clapped glasses and sipped, then everyone would leave, except Rodney and the two of us, as we would clean things up, and head into the living room to sit and chat some more.
"I loved Savannah. I was there from 1998 to 2003, working independently for a wealthy lawyer out there. In fact, he may still be there, so I could reach out to him, then definitely link with you guys," he said to us.
I was a little buzzed from the vodka, while he and Marcus were faded, as they toked a lot during the evening. We all were stretched out, with both of them on couches, while I laid across the floor with a pillow under my head.
"Sweet Georgia peaches. They're really a thing, ya know," Marcus said out loud, giggling.
"Shit, you got a sweet, Georgia peach laying on that floor," Rodney said as he projected his voice in my direction.
I let the two of them go at it as they discussed "peaches," and I thought about Rodney, who never came on to me clearly, but had me curious as he was single without a woman. Rodney, who was in his mid 40s, stood maybe six foot two, 240 lbs., as he was a beefy, bear-like guy, with the prettiest cock print on a clear day in the right fabric. He threw compliments at this hour that was directed for my reception, and not necessarily as subtle as they should've been.
"I like the peach Wayne carries," Marcus said, as he was taunting Rodney.
"Well, I wanna taste, too," Rodney said as I turned my head to see Rodney looking at me, and his pants were engorged.
I never shied away from a cock, and despite Marcus and I being unofficially monogamous, I wanted to test drive the other man in the room the same as he wanted me.
"I tell you what, if the guy carrying the peach allows you to taste it, you promise you won't get addicted," Marcus asked.
Rodney didn't answer, as he instead got up, pulled down his shorts, then stood over me. I sat up, as now I was on my butt, and his thick cock was in my face oozing precum to the floor.
"It ain't gon' suck itself," he said to me as I was turned on by hearing of him rimming me, so much that I had to show him my mouth was equally satisfying as the perceived flavor of my man cunt.
