The Motel in the Middle of Nowhere

(Part 1 from 1. Fiction.)

About four years ago I decided to quit my job in IT and start freelancing doing security work on computer networks for small companies throughout the Midwest. I was looking at making $300 an hour instead of $30 an hour so for me the decision was a no-brainer. This also meant setting my own hours and working when I needed to or wanted to instead of putting in long days working for someone else.

It was late January when I got a call from a friend- he had a buddy who managed a small community bank up in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. The bank's computer network was in drastic need of updating as they had been winging it without an IT for about six months. I gave them a call and explained everything I could do for them and gave them my rates- they were more than happy to pay. However, I told them because of the distance I had to drive- over 500 miles to get there- they would also have to pay me $0.55 a mile for the trip to cover gas and car expenses. Again, no problem.

No problem, that is, until the day came for the drive up. I looked at the weather forecast. There was a wicked cold front moving down from Canada and heavy snow was expected, so I decided to get an early start and left at 2 AM, hoping to beat the storm and get there by 5 PM the same day. Just as I crossed the Mackinac Bridge and entered into the Upper Peninsula, the storm hit- and I had another 270 miles to go. Two hours later I had only made it 100 miles and had to stop. It was white-out conditions and the snow plows couldn't keep up. I was coming up on a small town- not even really a town, just a gas station, a motel and a convenience store- and decided to pull in there.

I got to the motel. All of ten rooms, a small office and a diner that only served breakfast and lunch. There was only one car parked in the lot, right near the office. I pulled in, parked in front of the room and went into the office. Sitting behind the desk was a scruffy looking kid, probably no more that 19 or 20 years old and thumbing through a hunting magazine looking bored out of his mind. I walked up and said "I guess there's no need to ask if you got any rooms available. Driving up I think I was the only one out on the road besides the snowplows." The kid laughed and confirmed that I was the only guest so far, and added that given it was a Monday night I would probably remain the only guest. I asked him his name and he said it was Doug. He said he was there for the night and if I needed anything just drop into the office.

Doug told me $40 for the night, check out time whenever I felt like leaving and the restaurant opened at 6 AM - if the cook could get out of his driveway. I paid cash up front and Doug threw me the key to the room right next to the office, then followed me to the room to make sure the heat was turned on and there were clean sheets on the bed. The room was okay- nothing special. A bed, an old 12" RCA TV, a small desk, a dresser- that's it. Not even a chair. I threw my bag on the floor and laid down for about an hour and watched the evening news then decided to take my chances and see if there was a restaurant nearby, as I hadn't eaten since about noon.

I threw on my coat and went to the office- Doug was still there reading the same magazine, chain smoking Marlboro Lites,, just as he was when I arrived. I asked him where the closest restaurant was. He laughed and said "Look out the door- right across the parking lot and closed until 6 AM. Other than that, about 15 miles down the road." There was no way I was making that trip- I couldn't even see the out to the road it was snowing so hard. So I asked Doug if he had a key to the restaurant. He laughed again. "Key? Hell, no one locks anything around here. Why you asking?"

"I haven't eaten anything since noon- I'm starving. If I give you $20, you think you could head over with me an make me a sandwich or something? Nothing hot- just a PBJ and some chips is fine by me- and another $20 if you throw in a six pack of beer with it."

Doug looked at me. "I don't know, man. Fred, the dude who runs the place gets pretty pissed of if I go in there. He owns the motel too and I don't wanna chance losing my job, It's not like there's a ton of work up here. That old fuck is a mean bastard."

"Come on, Doug- I'll tell you what. $50 bucks then. A PBJ, a bag of chips and six cold ones. Please?"

"Man, I can't. I tell you. Fred will shot me and skin me alive. Besides, I'm only 19- can't sell you beer anyway. I'll get into trouble, man."

I thought about it for a couple minutes then got an idea. A 19 year-old kid, alone for the night. Hmm. Just maybe. I decided to chance it. "Tell you what, Doug, my man. It's just you and me. No one else is coming. Here's what I'll do. I'll not only give you $60 instead of $50, I'll suck your too. No one will ever find out- just you and me will know."

Doug looked at me and a grin came across his unshaven, scraggly face. "You're kidding, right?"

"Nope. We head over, you fix me a sandwich, give me a bag of chips and a six pack. I pay you $60 and suck your cock. Final offer."

Doug thought for a second, then stood, put out his cigarette and waved me out the door. Across the parking lot we went- sure enough the front door was unlocked and we walked in. Doug led me back to the kitchen without saying a word, then dug around and found some bread and peanut butter and jelly then went into the cooler and grabbed a six of Bud. He made the sandwich and grabbed some chips off a rack next to the cash register. I reached in my wallet, pulled out $60 and handed it to him. He took the money, then finally spoke. "Where you wanna do this?"

"Right here/ Back in the office? I don't care," I replied.

"Follow me," muttered Doug and we headed back to the office. We walked in and he led me to the small bathroom across from the front desk. We walked in and Doug looked at me. "What do you want me to do?"

I put the seat down on the toilet and sat. "Stand in front of me" I stated. Doug shut the door and locked it then turned and walked over to me. I reached over and undid his belt then unsnapped his jeans and let them drop to the floor. He was wearing a ratty pair of boxer shorts. I reached over and yanked them down.

Ho-lee SHIT! I couldn't believe what I saw. That skinny white was horse-hung and then some. His flaccid meat had to be hanging down seven inches, half way to his knees. There was a star tattoo arcing over his shaved and his balls were hanging down at least 4". I took his shaft in my hand and gave it a few jerks until he started to get hard, then took that monster in my mouth. And it grew. And grew. And then some. Not a minute into sucking him off, that beast was sticking straight up a good 11". A nice, slender, vein-covered 11" with a bright red, rock-hard mushroom head. I went to work.

I prided myself on my -throating skills- but this beauty was going to be a challenge. Six inches in- no problem. I worked down further. Seven inches. Still no problem and now in my throat. I ran my tongue up and down his shaft, working up a good load of spit to keep it well-lubed. At nine inches in, I started to gag. That was all I could take. This was the biggest fucking dick I had ever seen in my life and it was on some hillbilly punk who was no more than 5"9" tall and weighed no more than 150 lbs. I had him squealing like a in heat I was sucking that cock so fast and furiously. His head was back, his eyes were shut tight and he was screaming "Suck my cock, you pussy faggot! Take that shit it!" over and over.

Finally. after what seemed forever (not that I wasn't enjoying it- I was just hungry as hell) he finally blurted out "TAKE MY LOAD, FAGGOT! GAAAAWWWWD! HERE IT COMES!" Suddenly I felt his cock start pulsating like I had never seen before and BAM- I counted eight huge spurts of cum so thick I could practically chew it fill my mouth and then more just kept oozing out. By the time he was done shooting his load, my mouth was literally full of cum. I stood, leaned over the sink and spit it out as Doug quickly pulled up his underwear and pants.

He opened the bathroom door and we walked out. I grabbed my sandwich, chips and beer, looked at Doug and said "Appreciate it, dude." He just smiled, looked at me and said "No problem. Enjoy." and lit a cigarette then sat back down to his magazine.

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