EXCERPT FROM THE LAST FUCKSTAR BY CHEMICAL MIKE
Saturday at 10:03 PM
Hank laughed hysterically at my answer. I felt stupid, because I truly didn’t know why. I was just being honest. My thoughts began to take a dark turn thinking this guy was going to take advantage of me...maybe? But then I was hoping he would. I was all of a sudden getting hard in my pants...that I had just realized were really tight and showed the definition of everything below my waist. So I covered my crotch with the hem of the red flannel I was wearing. Then I had a sudden thought, why the fuck am I being shy?
Hank took a good look at me, up and down then back up and made eye contact. He had green eyes that lustered like gems. I quickly looked ahead at the road. I mean I didn’t want to give him an impression that I would let him fuck me. He could be a fag basher for all I know. Most country guys are.
“So,” Hank said, “Matt, where do you want me to drop you off? You have a place in mind? The next town is where I rest at. I’m located on the outskirts but I can drop you off at the truck stop if you’re going further than that.”
“To tell you the truth,” I started to chuckle, “I have no place in mind. I don’t even know where I’m headed as I’ve said. I just know I’m heading west.”
“Well, like I said I could drive you to the truck stop and drop ya there.”
“I guess that’s fine—“ I began to say, but he continued on over me.
“—Or if you’re looking for lodging, you could stay at my place for the night. Maybe have some good food, or maybe something else.”
Ok now my attention was towards whatever notion “something else” may have been. So I had to pry.
“What do you mean by something else?” I asked trying not to let my boner express my intentions if he was going there.
Hank looked at me and smiled, “Open the glove box, friend.”
I looked at the glovebox and pressed the lock and it fell open abruptly, and I spied upon a familiar looking glass object within. It was a pipe, a glass pipe for smoking...something I liked to smoke but couldn’t remember what it was.
So I asked, “I’m interested, what is it?”
Hank looked at me somewhat perplexed, “Well that is a tina pipe with some tina in it. I’m surprised you don’t know that. I mean I pinned you for an addict when I saw your arms.”
“What do you mean my—“ I said as I looked at my arms and noticed they had marks up and down them, where my laceration scars should have been but magically were not.
They were instead punctures, needle marks, like from shooting up. I liked shooting up. I was slightly beginning to recall.
“Your track marks,” he said looking at the road.
I looked upon them, “I didn’t notice these before.”
Hank laughed, “wow man you must think I’m dull. Look, I presented a meth pipe, you don’t have to play stupid to hide the fact you’re a meth addict. Takes one to know one, son!”
Hank showed me the inside of his right arm and he had identical marks. I was somewhat relieved yet confused of my discovery that I too was a meth addict. So I decided to give it to him straight or as the gays say, clearly.
“Look, I may be suffering from memory loss,” I said “I know my name is Matt, and that I’m heading west. I was in a hospital in Texas for a failed suicide attempt that I somehow miraculously healed from without even scars to corroborate this incident. I barely remember who I was before. I mean I remember that I sang and performed for people but I don’t know who I am completely. Like now I just discovered that I like meth and that I’m an addict.”
Hank looked at me then back to the road, “Ok, I believe you. In fact, I may be of some assistance with your memory.”
“Really?” I asked, noticing his hairy blonde chest, and that I could smell his pheromones, which turned me on more.
“Yep,” he responded, “but first I need you to do something for me. There is a torch lighter behind the glass pipe, I want you to grab that with the pipe and take a hit, maybe even two good hits. Blow me some thick clouds.”
I wasted no time and grabbed the lighter and pipe and put the mouthpiece piece to my lips and started the torch within three clicks of the button that activated it. A sharp orange flame jetted out of the barrel like a spike, and suddenly I knew naturally what to do next.
I was careful not to burn the meth inside the glass bulb chamber that was at the other end of the glass pipe and I slightly rolled pipe with my index finger and thumb as I lightly moved the torch over the curves of the bulb and the meth melted into a smoky liquid.
I inhaled slowly at first but as the smoke got thick within the chamber I was steadily sucking the smoke into my lungs and I felt the familiar taste and feeling that I somehow expected, maybe even in fact, craved.
I shut off the torch and sucked the rest of the billowing smoke from the pipe into my lungs and then when I moved the pipe from my lips I exhaled a thick cloud of meth smoke that impressed Hank, who was chuckling at the cloud that sprung forth from my lungs.
“Please,” Hank encouraged, “take another one. A bigger one this time, try not to singe the tina though.”
I did exactly what I did before except I went even slower on the inhale, taking in even more smoke than before, fuck more than I thought I knew how to do. When I exhaled this time, I blew out a cloud so dense, I couldn’t see out the windshield, and Hank even pulled over to the shoulder, and laughed.
“Ha!” He exclaimed, “you are not only an addict, you’re a professional! A specialist! Like yours truly!”
Hank took the pipe and torch from me and took his turn hitting the meth pipe. Sure enough we hotboxed his truck with thick pillowy smoke. I couldn’t see past it to view his face. He had the windows rolled down even. But it wasn’t long until the cab of the truck was clear and saw that he was taking another big puff. He finished with a cloud so big, so white, it blanketed the cab again with a white screen I couldn’t see past. Eventually it cleared up.
Hank handed me back the pipe, “Ok, so what we know so far is your name is Matt and you are heading west, which is Southern California, whereabouts is still to be discovered, but most likely Palm Springs, the meth capital since you sir are a bonafide meth addict! And you not only smoke meth well, you slam it. Which tells me you have been at this a long time!”
I took another hit from the pipe and pulled two more thick clouds like the last time and that’s when I felt that I was high. It felt awesome, and I was horny as fucking hell.
“Ok,” I said, submitting to the clues, “but I don’t know about the Palm Springs part, and what the hell is slamming? It sounds familiar…”
Hank grabbed my arm and showed me the marks within, “These are syringe point marks,” he said, “which means you like to inject meth into your veins, and from the looks of it, you have done this many many times. More so than I have, see?”
He showed me his marks, which were numerous but yeah I had more. I noticed my other arm was also littered with these marks. Hank went on,
“And I only mentioned Palm Springs because the best meth in the world is there. You look like you’re going where the meth is just by gathering what I’ve discovered. But maybe you’re not. Just a guess.”
Hank takes the pipe, does a few more hits and then puts it back in the glove box. I am raging hard and he looks at me with content.
“Say,” he says with a slight smile, “you wanna suck my cock? You’ve got to be as hard as me right now.”
“Yes!” I say with eager relief that he asked.
“Ok good,” Hank says as he unbuckles his overalls revealing he isn’t wearing underwear, “I was gonna kick you out if you didn’t.”
Hank’s cock is around seven inches long but fuck he was thick! He was pulsating too and so I immediately gave my attention to it with my somewhat dry mouth for which he stopped me and handed me the beer he was sipping on.
“Here, you’re dry, take a few good swigs to coat your throat,” he said, “Nevermind that it’s rodeo cold”
“What’s rodeo cold?” I asked as I gulped my first and realized the beer wasn’t cold at all but hot!
Almost too hot, which was disgusting but Hank insisted if I wanted this thick cock I had to hydrate my mouth and throat first. So that’s what rodeo cold means, the contrary to cool refreshing, which is very hot and not good, but serves its purpose I suppose. I gulped down several gulps before he takes it away from me and takes a huge swig himself.
In the meantime he grabs the back of my neck and pushes me to his throbbing member which is oozing precum like the sweat permeating from his balls. I can smell he’s really gamey, but not filthy. He knows how to clean his asshole, because it doesn’t smell like shit. Just a thick musky smell of sweaty balls, which I’ve discovered get me harder.
His cock is all the way in my mouth and towards my throat and I just begin bobbing up and down on his girth as he moans and drives his truck to wherever we are headed. He slides his wet fingers, obviously he wetted them with his mouth while I sucked, down my pants and starts to play with my asshole. I’m concerned because I’ve not bathed in over a week, however I haven’t shit either. I feel his fingers rub the circumference of my sphincter folds and his index poking into the hole which loosens to his touch. He moans louder and starts finger blasting my asshole like a clit which makes me moan on his cock which is now drenched from me slurping and sucking it.
I’m tasting its flavor as he pulsates harder and harder with each brisk stroke of my wet rodeo cold beer lubed lips surrounding the veiny length and girth of his cock. More precum is ejecting salty creamy loads into my hungry noisy drenched mouth which is filled with his dick that continues to pulsate harder and faster with each delicate watery slurp.
“Holy fuck man, you’re mouth is amazing,” he states as he continues to finger bang my hole making it looser and wider for another finger to slide through.
He pulls up on my hole like he would picking up a six pack of beer by the center. Making me moan harder into his cock which causes a sweet sensational vibration that excites Hank even more to the point of exploding the contents of his balls into my slurping sopping mouth.
“Fuck dude I’m gonna blow my fucking load!” He says as he pulls over the truck and puts it in park, “You want it?” He asks as he pants harder and harder.
I moan an affirmative which makes him fuck my mouth vigorously, going deep into my throat pulsating more and more jiz as he builds up to the climax that’s about to happen. I gulp and slurp and swallow forcefully stroking my tongue around his vibrating shaft making him thrust and grind harder into my fucking head. He pumps and pumps and pumps and fucking pumps…
“Fuuuuuuuuuck!” He yells as his thick girth pulsates violently. Thankfully Hank pulled over earlier, because this explosion is about to put Old Faithful rightfully to shame.
That fucking dick just starts fucking violently shooting a massive load that catapulted to the back of my fucking thirsty cum guzzling throat coating entire area of my cavity with his spunk, followed by another thick load and another thick load and so on as his cock pulsates to its full potential, filling my sopping slurping orifice. His thick pulsating length that continuously gushes seed, he ejects thick creamy salty sperm that coats my mouth and throat with pyroclastic glee as I gobble every fucking drop, gulping and swallowing, like the suction of a thick straw slurping up yogurt. His cum was coating my throat in layers of his DNA, expelling pleasure fiercely from his vibrating swollen nuts into my mouth through his pulsating shaft I wanted up my clenching cum gulping asshole immediately after. Fuck he still keeps blowing wads in my mouth, even making some spill out the crevices of where my lips are vigorously wrapped suctioned to his goddamn jolting thickness!
“Holy fuuuuuuuuuuuuck!” He outbursts as he shakes the last drop from his swollen balls into my mouth, making him quake hard with overwhelmingly gratifying pleasure.
The man is truly, as they say when ultimately satisfied, fucking spent. I linger upon his dick a bit longer until it finally goes limp with no more to ejaculate, no more to give to the greatest and most awesomeness that is my jiz monging mouth and throat. I lift off of him with one last pulling sucking slurp that rips the last bits of sensual pleasure his dick has left for the meantime and he jolts with an unexpected electric tickle that makes him slightly yelp like a puppy squirting his first nut.
I take a drink of his beer to swallow the remnants of the load that now belongs to me and my guts. I can smell his cock sweat on my beard and moustache which smells better than a fine cheddar.
“Jesus Fuckload Christ,” he finally musters from his body which is twitching in an invalid condition, “what the fuck was that!?”
I remember the words that instantly formed with in my brain, as if pulled from the memory of brilliantly executing this deed many times before, the regally erotic expression to properly and with due justice describe what Hank just experienced, fumbled from my now very loose rubbery waterlogged lips,
“That was some fucking epic road head from a supreme fuckstar aptly called, the black magic blowjob deluxe.”
Hank looked at me with amazement for a moment then smiled and without pulling up his overalls, he started driving,
“You are coming home with me.”