#get in the car

“How about you just get in the fucking car and go down on me!”

Somehow I didn’t think that was a question, more of a demand. Either way, it obviously wasn’t his first time, as he knew exactlywhat he wanted, and wasted no time, unzipping, puling out his cock, and making me service him to completion. Repeatedly. 

Yeah, no pulling off for thisstud. He just held my head, demanded I “swallow it” and “keep going”, while he rode around, re-loaded, and re-fired, twice more, before he was done. 

We ended up on the outskirts of out of town, where he pulled over and said “get the fuck out, I’ve got work to do.” Walking back, about an hour later, he passed me in the opposite direction, doubled  back, and slowed down. “Get in” he instructed, “I’ll run you back into town.” “Did you get everything done you needed?” I asked. “Not quite” he grinned, reaching for his zipper to reveal his weapon. “Make it quick” he said, reaching over and pulling my mouth over his shaft.

I’ll say this for him, he was a cum making machine, but I was happy to ingest whatever he produced, so just softly milked his mast wile cupping his tightening balls through his pants. It didn’t take him long to blow, but he still spewed a decent dose, his fourth in two hours, which was what he needed to empty his sack. 

“So, you getting the fuck in, or what?”

I didn’t think there wasan “or what” so got in and went down on him, as he rode around the backstreets of the neighborhood. 

Twenty minutes and two loads later, he’d emptied his balls of the day’s brew, pulled out, zipped up, before pulling over and saying “now get the fuck out, I’m got work to do.”

When he’s done, he’s done, and so are you.