Rear-Ended

It's safe to say that I love my truck. It's my passion. I've had this baby for almost fifteen years now and I'm proud to say that the upkeep and servicing I've been doing to it has been paying off. I've driven this beauty all around the state with only a few hiccups here and there. She's been with me through thick and thin - breakups, sickness, everything. The only constant in my life. I make sure to wash it every week and do a basic check-up at least once every two months.

Sorry - forgot to introduce myself. The name's Carter. Thirty-five years old, but still as full of piss and vinegar as I was when I was a teenager. Shaggy blonde hair on my head, a five-o'clock shadow on my face all day long, and - yeah, I'll admit it - a bit of a beer belly. The way I see it, the hard work I've been doing all my life has made my muscles sort of pay up for that though.

I work as a contractor, and that kind of makes me drive around a lot. That's why I appreciate my truck so much. No matter what is going on in my life, I always know that with her company and some classic tunes on the radio, I'll be able to forget about everything and just enjoy the ride. I even gave her a name - Betsy. You'd probably guess I wouldn't take it lightly if someone messed with her, either. And this story is all about that.

It was a random summer afternoon, and I was just driving Betsy back home from doing some work in another town. Working construction in the summer heat is no fucking joke. I was sweaty, tired, and ready to hit the hay as soon as I reached home. Was a little bit riled up too, I'll admit - maybe I could crank one out in the shower with a cold one in my other hand before I went to sleep. Yeah, that seemed like a solid plan.

I was driving that ol' beauty of mine on a lone road for almost an hour before I noticed another truck behind me. He was a bit too close for comfort, but I didn't pay it no mind. I didn't have it in me to get into any kind of road rage after such a long day... or so I thought.

Suddenly, and I mean out of fucking nowhere, a goddamn deer jumped onto the road! It was an empty, straight road with just one lane so I wasn't too worried about the speed limit and I was pumping the gas pretty hard, so it was hard to react quickly.

"What in the..." I let out and quickly stepped on the brake. I clenched my teeth hard as I heard my beloved Betsy screech in protest and slowly come down to a halt. I nearabout hit the goddamn animal, but I managed to pull down to a stop at the very last moment. Allowing myself to relax for a second, I sighed and stared back into the deer's stupid face. But then another shock came right after.

My eyes bulged as I heard a terrifying crash on the back of my truck. Betsy shook and sort of jumped forward, scaring the deer in front of me. It decided not to stay around any longer and ran off to the woods, unharmed. I sat there for a couple of seconds, trying to take it all in.

The son of a bitch behind me rear-ended me!

Quickly, I jumped up from my seat and got out of the car. I had to make sure Betsy didn't suffer a lot of damage. It felt like one of them slow-motion scenes in movies as I was running to the back of the car, expecting the worst.

The asshole's pitch-black Jeep was still rammed into my Betsy. The tailgate was all mangled up, probably useless after that point. I could see that the back part of the cargo bed took a hit as well. I let out a squeak and buried my face in my hands. Deep breaths, Carter, you can get through this. You can fix this, for sure.

Very slowly, my thoughts started shifting from sadness to anger. I clenched my fists and tried to control myself as I locked eyes with the asshole behind the wheel. I saw that he was as infuriated as I was when he got out of his car. He looked about my age, with dark hair and a thick mustache, a cowboy hat and a flannel shirt. Pretty well built, and with hairy arms, exposed by his rolled-up sleeves. Tight denims, with a massive belt buckle in the shape of Texas.

"I'll be damned," he said, when he saw the damage himself, "You really done fucked up, ain't ya, pal?"

"Me?!" I laughed back at him, "I fucked up? I reckon you were the one tailgating me as if you were trying to kiss my ass."

He let out a chuckle and stepped closer to me, but I wasn't about to be intimidated, even though he was a good chunk taller than me.

"Wouldn't you just love that, princess?" his tone got a bit deeper, "The only reason I even got close to that moving junkyard you call a truck was 'cause you were moving slower than a dying mule. We're out of the city, bucko, no need to be afraid to step on that gas pedal out here!"

I clenched my fist so hard my knuckles turned white. I stepped one step closer to him, putting us way closer to each other than two folks having a friendly conversation normally would be.

"Maybe you should call my truck like that one more time," I growled at him, "See what happens next."

"Didn't know you were deaf too," he doubled down, as his voice turned to a whisper, "Aight. That thing you got over there? Wouldn't be able to tell it's a truck if I haven't seen it moving. Looks more like something my nephew would glue together for a school project. He's in grade five, by the way."

I chuckled and acted quickly - I grabbed him by his shirt and pulled his face down and closer to mine.

"You're lucky I left my gun at home."

He didn't hesitate and grabbed my t-shirt as well, while at the same time pushing me and pinning me against the side of my truck with his body. I could both hear and smell his heavy breathing - it smelled of chewing tobacco.

"Can't say the same about you," he matched my threatening tone, "Mine's in the glove compartment. Should I go and get it?"

I laughed, spitting the droplets of my saliva on his face on purpose.

"Pointing a gun at an unarmed fellow. That sounds fitting for a pansy like you."

"I have no issue putting you in your place with my bare hands, either," he said, pressing himself even more against me. There was a lot of friction, and with the adrenaline running, my whole body was tensed up. Blood was rushing through my veins and some of it may have started to flow into my dick - a perfectly natural thing that can happen if you're a man in a tense situation, or so I've heard.

"Sounds like a hoot," I responded calmly while pushing him away with my fists on his chest, grabbing his shirt, "Why don't we see what you're made of, you no 'count son of a bitch."

"Heh. You better give your heart to Jesus, pal, 'cause your ass is mine."

"That's a lot of sweet talk for such a limp-dicked schmuck."

"Limp-dicked, huh?" he raised his eyebrows, "You don't need to worry about my dick. It'll stay hard long enough to fuck my girl twice and then have yours for dessert."

"Oh yeah?" I mocked him.

"Fuck yeah," he thrust against me, making a dull sound as my body hit the metal bed of the truck, "Why don't you see it for yourself? I know your pansy-ass' been dying to see it ever since you laid your eyes on me."

The atmosphere was as thick as a pudding. Up until now, we were both staring deep into each other's angry eyes, but now we broke that off at the same time to look down. Both of our jeans were now tenting, pressed against each other so hard I could actually feel his dick throb. Then we slowly looked back up, staring each other down in silence. Aside from our heavy breathing, there wasn't another sound in reach on the lone country road.

It's hard to explain what was going on. We were both angry like a box of frogs, but we were also riled-up virile men in their prime. The anger was mixing with our libido and both were sort of pumping each other up. Even though it was pleasant seventy-three degrees or something outside, we were both sweating up a storm, like we were in a sauna or something.

"It's probably so tiny I wouldn't even find it," I responded.

He barked his laugh back at me, getting into the idea of spitting his saliva on my face in the process.

"Knew you were a coward."

"Really?" I challenged him, "Why don't you go first, if you're such a man then, huh?"

"If you're too scared to pull it out, sure, let me help you," he snarled back, "At least your dick finally gets to find out what a real man's hand feels like."

I looked down as his rugged fingers reached to violently pull on my zipper. When he finally opened it, the tent in my loose boxers sprang up. They were already a bit wet on the tip and the button on the top was working hard to barely cover my swollen cock. He stopped for a second in his tracks - it probably started dawning upon him what we were doing.

It probably wouldn't go any further if I could keep my restless mouth shut for a second. I chuckled at him and snarled at him again in a mocking tone.

"Yeah. Knew your jaw would drop and you would freeze as soon as you saw it, you little pussy."

That little push was enough for him to give me a death glare. His hand grabbed the tip of my bulge and violently pulled on the button on my boxers, protecting the little slit that allows you to pull it out without having to pull the whole thing down. He tore the button off and threw it away. The cloth fell down to reveal my thick seven incher. Uncut purple head, already wet with precum, pubes on my base, and two very full balls, ready to burst.

His hand didn't pull away - his fingers were on my dick, holding it surprisingly gently at the part where my cockhead meets my shaft.

"I figured as much," he said in disgust, which contrasted the fact that he was still holding my cock, curiously inspecting it with his fingers, "Smallest cock I've ever seen."

"And you've seen a lot of them, haven't you?" I was quick with my reaction. He growled in anger.

"No need to be an expert. I'm surprised your wife even notices when you stick it in her."

"Bet you would notice, though," I taunted him, "And squeal for more."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Like a fucking pig."

"Maybe I need to teach you some respect, bud," he said as he wrapped his fingers tightly around my shaft, "I fuck. I don't get fucked."

"You fuck, huh?" I nodded my head, pretending to be confused, "With what?"

"See for yourself!" he snapped and grabbed my hand with his free leftie - the one that wasn't holding my dick - and put it on his throbbing bulge. I could feel the cold metal of his Texan buckle contrasting the heat his manhood radiated through his bulge.

This was a new one for me, but I figured we passed the point of no return a while ago. My fingers obliged him and pulled on his zipper. As soon as I did, his meat sprung out - apparently, he wasn't too keen on wearing underwear. His cock was about the same size as mine, just a tiny bit bigger. Mine was thicker, though.

My hand ran over the hard cock - first time ever holding one belonging to another man. It felt interesting running my hand over a hot, hard shaft and not feeling any physical sensations. I have to say though, even though I wasn't feeling anything physical on my dick, my heart was running a mile a minute.

He smirked and pushed it against mine, to kind of overshadow mine and show off the fraction of an inch he had over me.

"Looks like I was right," he boasted, "Knew you had a tiny little baby dick."

That was a pretty bold over exaggeration, considering he was only a little bit longer than me, but it still made me blush with anger.

"Whatever," I grunted, "It's not like the girl's gonna care about the length. Didn't they tell you that the girth is what makes them moan? Good luck bringing a girl to the top with that pencil dick."

He pushed his cock forward, rubbing it against mine, making our hands touch as we were still holding onto the other one's dick. It was something between a dominating gesture and a horny one.

"The way you talk almost makes me think you've taken a few yourself since you know what feels good."

His forehead was now touching mine. We were staring at each other angrily. He got another inch closer, forcing our cocks to rub against each other and push themselves up - both our cocks were sandwiched against each other, the naked, cut heads rubbing together, mixing our pre-juice and letting it stream down the sticky pair of shafts throbbing against each other.

I have to admit - even though I was mad as all hell, the rotten bastard was making me hornier than a coyote in heat! His lips were close to mine, brushing against them, almost challenging them to push forward and kiss him. But I wasn't about to do that. I wasn't sure where this game was going, or what were the rules of it, but I knew that I wasn't gonna let him win.

"Strong words for someone who's rubbing his tiny pecker against another man," I said.

"I'm not doing anything," he responded in a stubborn tone, "You're the one pushing yourself onto me."

I breathed into his mouth.

"Oh yeah?"

"Oh yeah," he said, "You're just a little cocksucker, trembling to get on your knees and service a real man."

"What in the hell is going on here?!"

Both of us froze in place. That voice didn't belong to either one of us.

He jumped away from me like he touched an electric fence, but it was too late for both of us to hide our shame - or at least conceal the fact that we were both hard as rocks. We both turned in the direction the voice came from and saw a big, burly piece of a man in a black and gray local deputy uniform. He was wearing a white cowboy hat and a pair of aviators. His mature face carried a well-kept white beard. His body filled his law enforcement uniform fully - wide shoulders and a bit of a belly. His hands were resting on his service belt carrying handcuffs and a big ol' gun. He looked imposing and very interested in what the two of us were doing.

"Well I'll be," he shook his head, as he saw both our erect dicks standing out, "The two of you couldn't find a nice bush or something, huh? You're blocking the damn road!"

Both of us looked behind him and saw his truck, together with red and blue lights behind us. Luckily, there weren't any other cars behind him. As I said, it was a pretty lonely road - the chance of running into anyone here was slim. I don't even know how I managed to get myself into a mess with one person, let alone with a deputy thrown into the mix!

"It's not what it looks like, officer," the other driver said, covering his crotch, "He was just driving like an asshole, that's all."

I covered my crotch too and threw a death glare at the bastard.

"Me?" I snapped, "Last time I checked, you're the one who rear-ended me!"

"I wouldn't rear-end you if you were driving like normal!" he defended himself, "Now my truck's all messed up, just because of your sorry ass!"

"My whole cargo bed is fucked!" I shouted back at him, "You'll just end up with a few dents on your bumper!"

"So? That's still a part of the car!"

"That's what it's there for, asshole!"

The deputy in front of us cleared his throat loudly. We both looked back at him and stood quiet. Damn... it was enough that Betsy was all messed up, I didn't need to have trouble with the law on top of that.

"I've seen a bunch of ways people exchanged their opinions after an accident," the deputy said as he slowly stepped in our direction, "None of them however involved any of the driver's fuckpoles out and proud in the open. Also, why are you so shy about hiding them, all of a sudden? Y'all seemed pretty proud of them a second ago!"

His hand gestured to us to come closer.

"Hands behind your back and come here. Both of you."

Both me and the other driver shamefully uncovered our still hard cocks in front of the deputy and stepped closer to him hesitantly, like two delinquents who were about to get punished. He spoke again after we got closer.

"Names?"

"Carter Dawson, sir," I said.

"Gunner West, sir," the other driver said.

"I'll also require both of your licenses, gentlemen," the deputy continued.

Ignoring the fact that we were both still standing there with our pants open, both of us reached into our pockets to fetch out our wallets. As we were giving our licenses to the deputy, I noticed that his badge carried the name "Tex Harris". The deputy took both the cards and looked them over for a while.

"Thirty-five and thirty-two years old," the officer noted as he was reading our licenses out loud, "And yet you two behave like horny little teenagers, throwing a dick size competition instead of resolving your problems like adults."

Both of us bowed our heads in shame.

"You boys seem to like driving with a bit too much anger behind your belts," he said, "Ain't y'all got any wives, or girlfriends, or, hell, pillows to fuck back home? You really have to take it out on each other on the road?"

Both me and Gunner decided not to respond to that question.

"Well," Officer Harris said as he was handing us back our licenses, "I ain't gonna risk you two driving around with all that spunk inside you and putting other drivers in danger. Not on my roads, not in my county. On your knees."

That last confused me, as well as Gunner apparently.

"Sorry, sir?" he asked. The deputy gave him a look.

"I apologize, boy, did I suddenly start speaking Spanish?" he asked, sarcastically, "Both of y'all, on your knees, right now. That's an order."

Slowly, all our four knees met the concrete ground. We were looking up at the imposing figure of the deputy towering over us, blocking the sun, with our dicks still throbbing hard.

"First things first, let me settle your little size contest," he said, "Both of you clearly need to be put in your place. Why don't you try this one for size?"

To my surprise, the deputy started unzipping his pants, right in front of our faces! We both got a glimpse of his tighty whities, together with the massive bulge inside them. He pulled them down just enough to let his huge manhood slip out - a massive, veiny hog, at least a nine incher! A good ol' cut American dick, hanging in front of our faces, together with a massive white bush and two balls hanging down, full of cop spunk.

"Holy..." I heard Gunner sigh.

"That's about right, pardner," the deputy said while shaking that intimidating piece of cock, "Why don't you get acquainted with it a little bit, so you can see it in full size?"

Both me and Gunner have exchanged a look. Then I looked back at the deputy, suddenly feeling even more intimidated by the man after I got to see the size of his cock.

"Sir, do you mean you want us to... umm... suck it?"

"Silly me, I took you for the smart one. Yeah, I want both of your mouths on that cock. Teamwork brings people together, you know that, right? Now get on it."

I never even touched another man's cock before except for Gunnar's, let alone sucked one! But I knew that with all the testosterone raging in my blood, I wouldn't be able to resist. Officer Harris was such an intimidating man, and I wanted to see his fuck gun in its full glory. So did Gunnar, it seemed. He might have been hesitant, but I could see him staring down the soft dick in front of his face and licking his lips ever so slightly.

I decided to be the first one. I leaned in and opened my curious mouth. The deputy's head stank slightly of stale piss and precum, but also of his manly sweat and musk. I've never been turned on by the taste of another man's junk, but I guess today was a day full of new experiences. I looked up at him and my tongue started lapping at the head of his soft penis before I finally caved and closed my lips around it.

That earned me an approving grunt from the law enforcement officer. He gyrated his hips to navigate more of his cockmeat into my hungry mouth. It was salty and strange but I'll be damned if it wasn't one of the most exciting flavors I've ever had in my mouth! My mouth sucked and slurped on the mature cock, slowly bringing it to half-mast before finally letting it out to catch a deep breath. I used that opportunity to shoot a look at Gunner and smirk at him.