Highway Encounters

Six months had come and gone since that night in the truck stop. Six months of me thinking about my cock in another man's mouth, skilled in a way my wife never was. Sucking me out of desire instead of reluctance.

Six months since my first taste of another man's seed. I could still taste it. I could feel the consistency, how it slapped to the roof of my mouth. I could feel his body thrum with the effort of his orgasm.

After that experience I'd driven the rest of the way to Rapid City with a distracted mind. For the first time since I'd found out my wife, Ellie, had been cheating on me I found my mind not dwelling on it.

No, my thoughts were to a young man on his knees in front of me, swallowing my load. To an older man with the prick so different but so similar to mine as he pressed it into my mouth. To another young man swallowing my second shot that marked the first time in my life I'd had two cumshots separated by minutes.

The regular thumping of the Subaru's tires on the expansion seams lent a cadence that was transformed in my mind to the speed of my head on the man I'd serviced. Without warning it would go to one of the two men who'd blown me.

Halfway into South Dakota I was still stuck with an erection.

My visit was distracted as my questioning mind. Mom could tell I wasn't all there and asked me numerous times. "There's just a lot on my mind."

When I'd left my visit I was living in want. I was terrified of it. I couldn't think about anything else. Every sense was involved.

Every nerve was flooded with anxiety as I neared the truck stop. My breathing quickened, my palms on the steering wheel were moist, tacky against the leather.

As I passed it and left it in the rearview, I wasn't sure if I was feeling relief or some other more unusual ache in my mind.

A half year had gone by. A half year of forced chastity. Six months of still loving my wife while pretending I hadn't seen her with him.

It had been late one evening. I'd been working on a project late at night for some time. The night that confirmed what I already knew had seen me get out much earlier than normal. We hit a roadblock at work which made no sense to keep us there.

The night was beautiful for early April and I drove home with the windows down and sunroof open. I even took a long way, driving down by Lake Michigan in the startling bright moonlight.

I pulled into the drive at least two hours prior to my normal time. The door jamb of the car was cool on my back as I got out and stared at the stars.

It was then I heard the noise. A low, rhythmic breathing coming from the near side of the house. I made my way past the hollies to the side yard and to an open window, open from the master bedroom to the night air.

They didn't see me. They were too occupied to pay attention.

I didn't know the man. His body was gleaming with a sheen of sweat from his effort. Ellie was the same below him, her large breasts rolling back and forth as he entered her quick and hard from above.

He kept her legs over his arms, showing a different glint from his shining shaft as it appeared and vanished within her.

My arrival must have been fortuitous timing. Suddenly he pulled himself loose and jacked once, then twice, then released glittering strings of semen from the pillow above her to her face to her chest to drips into her groin.

Her finger went to her face, pushing a wet glob into her mouth. A following motion and one of the lines from her tit was tasted.

"You'd better clean up." He said quickly, "When is the guy coming home?" He dismounted the bed and stood.

She followed him to her feet. Her skin was just as luminous as his, and I couldn't help but see the woman I'd loved. Maybe still did?

"Him? Who knows. He works constantly. He spends enough time away I'm almost positive he knows about..." she pointed at her pussy and his cock, "... This. His demeanor hasn't really changed but who knows?"

"See you Saturday?" He asked warmly. She nodded and kissed him.

I saw his face now. I did, in fact, know him. He was one of the other paralegals at the law firm where she worked. Greg something. Married with three kids.

She called me two hours later. The phone was in the car. It went to voicemail. I was sitting with my back against the lighthouse, a bottle of whiskey in a paper bag. The moon had moved across the sky a fair amount and I looked at it with a measure of despair.

I'd known she was fucking around. I'd seen the text messages and emails. Two different anonymous guys. Bawdy, racy, graphic discussions. Pictures. Descriptions of acts already performed. Things we'd never done.

But to see it, hear it. That made it more real. It made it more tangible.

The alcohol was supposed to dull it, make the edges fuzzy. It wasn't supposed to be this clear with half a bottle of Knob Creek in my nearly empty stomach.

But there it was. The act. The affection. The fat glob of his cum splattering onto my pillow.

"Hey man. You can't be here." I felt the tapping on my foot. I'd somehow fallen asleep and just now, through a vicious headache, saw the sun some few hours above the horizon.

The man lightly hitting my foot with a truncheon had one of the typical city police uniforms on. "I...I'm sorry. I guess I fell asleep."

He nodded towards the paper bag next to me and the bottle within, "Seems like you had a situation, huh? You think you're competent enough to get somewhere where you can sleep indoors?"

I nodded to him, "I'm sure I'll be OK. Sorry about this."

His smile was welcoming, "You're not the first person I've ever woken up here. Just be careful."

My phone had eleven missed calls. There were over a dozen text messages. 'Call me' numerous times, prefixed by 'Please' and followed by, 'soon'. They'd been for the first few hours after I should have been home, then this morning starting at five.

Fingers tapped to her number. "Jesus Christ! What the hell happened to you? I've been fucking terrified!" Her voice seemed almost concerned. Maybe it was. "Where are you?"

I ran through a hundred scenarios, then hit the easiest, "I...uh...stayed super late last night and just slept...in the car. I've...got to work early too." That worked.

"Well where the shit was your phone?" In that same concern.

"I had a meeting earlier in the day and silenced it. Forgot to turn it back on." I said, still trying to think quickly.

She sighed, "Don't do that again! You scared me something nuts."

We exchanged a few other statements before I said, "Oh...I'm going to Mom's tomorrow. She's...she's going into the hospital."

"Wait...tomorrow? For how long?" I wasn't sure if it was a muted excitement or some other anxiety. I answered that I'd be there a week.

"I guess I'll see you later tonight?" She asked.

I sighed and answered, "If I want to go I've got to finish some stuff up. Might be another overnighter. I'll probably crash in the parking lot again and leave after some morning stuff."

The lie was coming easier now, "I'll just pick up some clothes at the house around ten or so." She'd be at work by nine.

"Well shit. I'd like to see you at least before you go." Her voice sounded genuinely let down. I swallowed.

I told her I'd be back before she knew it.

Work was a distraction. I had a change of clothes and used the shower at the gym to freshen up. My boss wasn't happy about the last minute trip, but was less happy about the delays that made the time available.

That night I slept in the car. She called me about 8 PM to give me her nightly pleasantries.

What she didn't know was I still had access to her text messages. A bit of dialogue between her and Greg 'We'll have a ton of playtime. He's going out of town for a week. Save me up some loads, I'm gonna need them.'

Another recipient, 'ball and chain out of town for a week. Let me know your schedule and we'll find some horizontal time.'

The third one was kind of unusual though. Sent to her friend Eva, "He's taking off tomorrow to SD. I haven't seen him since day before yesterday. Kinda weird, hey?"

"Well, you're fucking guys on the side. Maybe he found some strange and is spending the week with her." Eva replied.

"LOL. I love the man but he's not interesting enough to have an affair. Why do you think I'm not fucking him?" Ellie's reply stung.

"Well maybe he found out you're banging three other dudes and is getting a divorce lawyer." Three, huh?

"I dunno. I mean he's been just the same as always until day before. He didn't come home the night Greg came over. You think he might know?" Her tone seemed condescending and it riled me a bit.

"He's never been known to be aware of much outside of work. The best thing about the guy is duty, you know? Take care of business. I wish Blake was like that." Eva's husband was somewhat flighty.

"Huh. Well I've got a week of a fuckfest coming up. I might take a couple days off. Not come up for air until he calls for his nightly dose of companionship. Until then it's gonna be miles of cock." She had it all planned out. All ready. Was she always ready?

"LOL. You're such a slut." Eva figured.

I stopped for gas in LaCrosse. My head was still burning about everything. What I'd seen through the screen. Her dialogue with them. Her dialogue with Eva.

That's what it was. I was a fucking joke. 'I love the man...'. Bullshit.

Days went by before I stopped again. I hadn't even realized I'd gone this far until I saw the Pacific Ocean in front of me. My head was so wrapped up that I couldn't think straight.

Apparently I was somewhere in southern Oregon.

I followed signs to Portland. I'd turned off my phone and thrown it into the glove compartment before I'd even hit Madison. It hit my hand and fell to the floor as I grabbed the trusty old map.

'Good fuckin place for it.' I thought. I resisted the temptation to pick it up, turn it on.

Portland was nice. I realized as I drove in that I'd need a shower and some food and a place to crash. If I wanted to not lose my job I'd have to turn around the next morning and haul ass back to Wisconsin.

At first I thought about getting a hotel. Then I realized that, while I had access to her texts, she had access to the credit cards.

I'd been using my debit card for the most part. But you need to use your credit card at a hotel and I couldn't use it wiithout her finding out. I stopped at a Target and picked up some cheap clothes and some toiletries. I also grabbed $100 in cash and a burner phone. I set it up and started looking at possible places.

I scanned the area for a YMCA, but my eyes lingered on a different location.

It was labeled as a 'Men's Spa and Bath'. The pictures showed a sauna, steam room, jacuzzi and a broad shower. That would do.

The place wasn't far but looked pretty busy. It was a nondescript place with a single steel security door. I grabbed my meager items, locked the car and went inside.

A large, thick window was inside separating me from an effeminate young man, who took my money casually. It was then it really clicked into my consciousness. This wasn't some basic spa. This was a gay bathhouse.

Immediately inside I was assaulted by odor. Bleach alongside aromatic herbs. Cleaning chemicals alongside some citrus smell.

Underneath it all, sweat, musk.

Electronic dance music thudded through hidden speakers with a seemingly unending song. It echoed along the hallways.

I'd taken a 'room'. It was smaller than my work cubicle with a vinyl wrapped cushion, a sheet, two towels and a washcloth.

On the way I'd passed two men wearing only towels around their waists. One was at least sixty, thinned hair and bright eyes. His slight paunch was somehow less concerning than I thought it might be, but then I wasn't much sure of what I was interested in either.

The other was a short fellow with skin the color of caramel. He had a tasteful mustache and goatee of deep brown. He was slender and wiry, looking like physical tension.

Both of them looked at me like...a product. Like I wasn't a person, like I was a piece of something.

Believe it or not, I still believed my only purpose here was cleaning and crashing for a bit.

I stripped and wrapped the towel, grabbed my small bottles of shampoo and body wash and followed winding hallways, past other men, past partly open doors with dimmed bodies inside.

My focus was on the showers I'd seen. They would be here.

Past the steam room, the dry sauna. There it was, tiled floor to ceiling. High mounted square shower heads.

The layout was overshadowed by the men in the corner. One was sucking the other. Right there, in view of anyone who might walk by. For some reason it felt more public than the truck stop had been, more blatant.

I turned on a spigot and walked below the water, barely noticing it as I watched the men at their work. I began to work the body wash over myself.

The standing man was over six feet, solidly built, with a long greyish brown beard. He leaned against the wall and moved his hips back and forth towards the face of the man who knelt in front of him. I could see his long, thick shaft as it moved into and out of the lower's mouth at a leisurely, relaxed pace.

The kneeling man was slender and virile, his hands on the standing man's hips as they moved, somehow seeming to drive him more.

I realized some moments into my distracted shower that I'd switched from peripheral view to nearly staring. The standing man was staring back in a manner I'd never seen. Something like lust but more present, more immediate. I cast my eyes to the shower head and my shampoo.

After I'd rinsed and felt I'd done my due diligence I turned back. The men were still there, still at pace. The standing one still looked at me.

I wrapped my towel and scurried back to my room, passing all sorts of men with similar eyes. They all wanted something. Someone I was frightened to provide.

Back in my cubicle-room, I spread the sheet over the makeshift mattress and lay down, putting the other towel onto me.

Somehow, I slept. Somehow, despite the loud music, the sex right outside my door, the strangeness and confusion I felt, I could sleep.

When I woke my watch told me five hours had passed. They'd said I'd have the room for eight hours and along with my shower, five and a half were down.

I got up and grabbed my wet towel and both of the bottles again. I opened the door and headed out.

It was much less occupied now. On my way to the showers I passed only two guys. Both of them older gentlemen and walking together but saying nothing.

Passing the sauna, I noticed through the windows it was empty. My thoughts shifted from shower to sauna, then shower. Maybe sauna, steam, shower.

It was painfully hot but also relaxing in a way I somehow needed. Days of fading in and out of awareness and tension felt like they were sloughing off. It felt...cleansing.

"Mind if I join you?" The voice snapped me out of a reverie I didn't know I was in. My head snapped up, "Woah, didn't mean to scare you."

He was my height, about 5'9". Short cropped full head of grey hair. Clean shaven with a curious smile. He wore a pair of dark grabbed glasses over light brown eyes.

His face was unlined, but for a few crows' feet that looked like they'd only developed from smiles.

He had a uniformly tan build that would be called a 'dad bod' today. A bit stocky but with apparent muscle underneath.

I nodded to him and he removed his towel quickly, laid it down and sat immediately to my right.

The room was large enough he could have gone up to ten feet away. I was even sitting mostly to one side of the place. I didn't know how to take it.

He removed my brief confusion a second later as he began to stroke himself. I could see his tan continued completely, an unbroken color even at his groin. The only variation was the dusky hue of his cockhead and a slightly lighter area of a circumcision scar.

His prick was big. Up until now the largest I'd seen. I'd put it an inch longer than my own six and half again as wide. It was attractive. Something you'd see in a porno mag ready to disappear into some lucky girl's nethers.

Without warning or express request, he put his hand on my right thigh. "Do you mind?" He asked after moving it lightly.

My head shook along with my consciousness. Was I actually doing this again? Was I actually going to screw around with another guy?

He undid my towel and let my very erect cock out. I didn't realize I'd been erect until it bobbed into the heat, my anxiety had been so rampant.

"Nice." He said, putting his left hand onto me and moving it slowly, the same pace as his own. The sensation of being jacked off by a muscular, thick hand was more interesting than I'd thought it would be.

My hands were down to my sides. He took a second off of my equipment to pull my hand up and place it on his rigid prick. Immediately he put his hand back onto mine.

Back in the truck stop, I'd been told to do what felt right to me, what I enjoyed. I tried that with him. I moved my hand how I liked it, rubbing it down to his heavy sack and back up to the top.

"Mmm. Feels good." He said as he rolled his hips up into my hand. I went against his upwards movement, pressing down. My grip went up as he relaxed.

I hadn't said a word as he looked at me, only the second time since he'd come in, "Can I ask a favor?" I nodded, "This kid upstairs edged me for like twenty minutes. I really just want to get off at this point. I promise if you help me, I'll help you."

When I nodded a second time he stood up and faced me. I could see him now in much higher definition than before. He had no hair at all. I'd felt it before but I could see it now. No stubble, just a perfect, flat, clean area.

His head was smooth without any apparent detail. The corona flared beautifully around it. His urethra was a long slit with what looked like infinitesimal lips on either side.

His frenulum was taught against the shaft, an inverted suspension leading down to the equally smooth spongy area beneath.

Large balls sat close to his body but his sack was wrinkled beneath, ready to receive the orbs back at the appropriate moment. They lightly pulsed with his breathing.

My hand went up at its own accord, wrapping itself around his base as I leaned forward. "I...I've...This is only the..second time I've done this." I stuttered, wanting to not let him down.

"You'll be fine. I'm mostly there anyway, just need a little attention to push me over." He pulsed in my hand, "You swallow?"

I looked up at his face, not sure how to answer. "I...I did the last time. I guess I do?"

He looked down at me with something like understanding? Charity? Pity? "I cum a lot. Like A LOT a lot, you know? Just be ready. If you can't swallow it all, that's fine too."

A thick drop of clear liquid came up to his slit as I pulled his flesh forward. It was the moment I took stock of things and let the part of my brain that wanted this more than I knew take over.

My mouth went around him and I remembered the words from the man those months ago, 'You know what you like. Just try to do that.' I brought my tongue to the bottom of his shaft, moving it side to side as I slid past his head, toying with the tender flesh below.

I continued to move forward on his generous meat, unsure if I was able to take much. My mouth wasn't stretched by any means but I tried. I slobbered, knowing that would work for something slick on him.

"Don't try to win any awards here. You're doing great so far. Maybe a little more suction and try to be a little lighter with your tongue, relaxed almost. A ton of guys dig that. Blowjobs for men are only periodically foreplay. Your goal is to get me off, not to get me stimulated for something else. Keep that in mind and you'll get some better perspective." He was coaching me. It was amazing.