Page 78 of Ride With Me

Once his fingers were good and wet, he pulled them out of my mouth and pulled off of my dick. “If I go too far, tell me to stop,” he whispered.

“D-don’t think… don’t think you can,” I groaned.

“Good boy,” he praised. My dick twitched at the praise, and I watched this time as he took me down again. He sucked me a few more times before pulling off again. “God, you taste so good. Can’t wait to have you fill my mouth.”

He wasn’t even touching me, and I was moaning like a whore. What the hell was he doing to me?

He stuck his hand back down my pants. He sucked me down again. At the same time, his spit slick fingers found my hole. He massaged around the rim as his tongue danced around the head of my cock. I was so close. I was so fucking close. The dual sensations were overwhelming, and I was losing my mind. I was spewing an incoherent stream of profanities that only grew louder as I felt two fingers slip inside.

The burn was intense, and it made me more desperate. He pumped his fingers in and out of my hole in time with the movement of his head, pushing in deep and grazing my prostate as he took me all the way down. He held his position, and I broke, desperate for more. I pushed deeper into his throat, and he gagged. The sound went through me. Then I fucked myself backwards onto his fingers.

I looked down at him and met his eyes. Maybe I was imagining the encouragement there, but I took it as I read it. I began to fuck myself into his mouth and then back down onto his fingers. I was desperate now, desperate to get off.

“Please,” I moaned. “Fuck, I need to cum. I need to—Fuck, Callum. So good. So fucking…” My breathing grew rapid, and he picked up pace. “So close. I’m so close. Going to… Fuck, Callum. Shit. I’m going to…” I couldn’t form a complete sentence, and he didn’t back off. Instead he sucked harder, fucked his fingers into me harder.

Then I saw stars. I shot deep into his throat, and he drank down every drop, milking me with the tight suction of his mouth.He kept his fingers in my ass, even after I finished shooting. He kept them there until the over stimulation became too much, just on the other side of painful. Then he held them there a longer as he licked my shaft clean. He wiped spit and cum from his lips with the back of his other hand before withdrawing his fingers from my hole.

I wanted to get him off too, to make him feel as good as he’d made me feel. I reached over to the bulge straining his zipper. His hand caught my wrist and squeezed it tight.

“No,” he told me. He looked at the GPS on my phone and then back to me. “Better put yourself away. We’ve got a long ride ahead of us.”

I nodded, breathless, as I tucked my dick away, buttoned myself back up, and merged back onto the road.

CHAPTER 3

We stoppedfor a late dinner at a small diner just off the interstate in some rural town in Illinois. The waitress was an old lady who gave us strange looks the entire dinner. I tried not to read too much into it, tried to convince myself that it wasn’t the fact that we were flirting in a clearly conservative part of the country. The food was good, and even if the elderly waitress gave us the stink eye, we had great service. We stopped at a truck stop for gas and hit the interstate again.

It was late when we entered Kentucky. By the time we neared the Tennessee line, I was yawning.

“Think we should find a hotel soon,” Callum said, reaching out and squeezing my leg again. Since we gave into the tension between us on that Illinois highway, he’d been doing that a lot. Every time, it distracted me more.

I could only think of his hand on my leg, my mind filling in the blanks of what a hotel room might mean. I could imagine that commanding voice of his being used in bed. I could imagine those strong hands maneuvering me around the bed, the feeling of him entering me. I already knew how his strong hands felt, how his mouth felt, and I wanted to know how everything else felt.

“Think we can make it a bit longer,” I told him, even though all I wanted was to pull over, find a cheap motel, and have him take full advantage of my body. I just wanted to give into the lust between us again. My head cleared when he withdrew his hand.

“Want me to look up some hotels?” he offered. “Can’t afford anything too nice, but I can book us something.”

I shook my head. “We’ll find something on the road. Pick a sign and take the exit.”

“Jasper,” he started, shaking his head, “do you really think that’s the best plan?”

I didn’t know. I’d done that in Illinois, and the motel had been terrible. If a hotel could have a negative star rating, that hotel would have one. “You might be right, but you’re not spending the money on a hotel. This is technically a work trip, so as long as I stay in budget, the company pays for it.”

“You don’t have to twist my arm. Pull over at the next exit.” I looked over at him. He wasn’t using the same tone that he’d used when he was jacking me off, but there was still the undertone of a command, one that I was powerless to resist.

Two miles later, we found an exit. I pulled into the parking lot of a closed Cracker Barrel and pulled my phone off its mount. I could see signs for several hotels from the parking lot. A quick search told me that one was full. Another looked about as nice as the hotel I’d stayed at in Illinois. That was an immediate no. The final one, a Red Roof Inn, looked promising. I checked the prices and availability, and then I showed it to Callum, seeking his approval.

Once he gave it, I changed the navigation to the hotel. “Well, that’s simple,” I said with a laugh. It was on the same road as the Cracker Barrel, a few streets down. About two minutes later, I pulled into the nearly empty parking lot. “Wait here,” I instructed Callum.

He nodded, and I went into the hotel’s lobby. A tired looking man stood behind the counter. “Welcome to the Red Roof Cadiz. Do you have a reservation?”

“No. I need to book a room,” I answered.

We went through the standard booking formalities. Despite the fantasies playing in my head, I asked for a room with two beds. I handed him my credit card at the end of the transaction, and he passed it back to me with an envelope holding two room keys. “Second floor,” he told me in an expressionless tone.

I went back out to the car. “Got us a room,” I told Callum when I opened the back door to grab my bag. He climbed out and grabbed his backpack and suitcase. We walked up the stairs together and found our room. I pulled one of the keys out of the envelope and used it to unlock the door.

It was an improvement on the room in Illinois. A massive improvement. The room looked clean. The bedding on the two queen beds actually looked like a maid had touched them in the last month. It was decently decorated with a red accent wall and a generic, cliche painting hanging on the wall. “Bed preference?” I asked him.

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