Skyline Riding Club

It was dark in the back of the van. I was stretched out on my side but also lying half on top of Roy, who was behind and slightly under me. We were both naked. Roy was a beefy, hirsute, older man, some thirty years older than my twenty-two. He was a farmer from the Stuart's Draft area, on the western side of the Blue Ridge, in Virginia, across the mountains from Charlottesville. He was a widower and, I could tell, very lonely and out of step with his neighbors. That's why, I'm sure, he had joined the club.

This van was obviously one that he delivered produce to markets. But it also was where he brought young men, when he could lure them, and where he fucked them--and not just fucked them. There was a mat on the floor. There also were other things--restraints and sex toys, which told me that he could go to extremes under the right conditions. The van was tall enough to stand in. The restraints attached to the walls were set so that they could fully restrain and spread-eagle a man, either facing the wall or the interior. There were restraints on the other wall, where a guy could be suspended between the walls. Chains dropped from the ceiling. A black leather sling that could be hooked up to them was folded in the corner. The man could do serious sex work in here. He hadn't done that with me. He was quite polite to me.

So far, at least.

Well, other than he was stretched out behind and under me, embracing me with both muscular arms, with my left thigh lying on top of his, opening me up for him to be inside me. He was inside me. I'd stopped any form of struggle when he managed to penetrate me. Any resistance seemed wasted energy then. I relax, opened to him, and let him have his way with me. And he did have his way with me, filling and stretching--and working me with his possessing shaft.

"You like it good now, don't cha?" he muttered.

The truth was that he wasn't doing it badly and the whole scenario had me jacked up.

I had my right hand covering the one he was jacking me slowly with, his strokes matching the cadence of his deep thrusts in my ass channel. Those thrusts were more slides now, now that I was well open and well lubricated, and he was more making love to me than screwing me. His florid, bearded face was buried in the hollow of my throat, kissing me, and my left hand was raised, the fingers of the hand running through the reddish-gray map of hair on his head, holding his face into me. He was a heavy, but solid man, big cocked and heavy in the balls, a manual worker rather than an office worker. He wasn't of my social strata, which made his domination of me all the more delicious. There was nothing that normally would attract me to him other then the size of cock and what he could do with it inside me. But now, in this moment, that was more than enough.

I was murmuring, "Yes, yes, like that," in a low, quiet register to convey that I liked him taking me slow, easy, and deep like this rather than what I was afraid he usually did with young men in the back of this van. But I had mixed feelings about that. I had experience with and pleasure in what else he may like doing in this van. I just didn't have time to take full advantage of the possibilities.

He was bull strong. He could be doing pretty much what he wanted with me now. But what he seemed to want is to make slow love as we parted and I moved on down the road weaving across the top of the world.

He was going off cadence, thrusting deeper, jerking before pulling back, panting harder. I was shimmering and shuddering, the muscles of my channel walls clutching at his moving cock.

"Shit, you take it good," he muttered.

I was panting harder too, sensing his climax was coming, and knowing that mine was under his stroking attention. I moved with him, rocking back against him with his thrusts forward, trying to bring him back to a stead rhythm, having enjoyed him inside me. He groaned and snorted. I thought that marked his release.

"Take it, take it, take it," was his droned mantra.

"Now, now. Come with me now," I called out and then released, tensing and jerking, tensing and jerking. I had misjudged but by only a few strokes. He lasted for three more pumps and then went rigid and fired his wad into the bulb of the condom.

We both relaxed with a long sigh, and I think I surprised him by turning my face to his and moving into a deep, wet kiss.

"Thank you," I murmured as we came out of the kiss.

I couldn't see his face in the darkness of the back of the van, but I knew I had surprised him--both because I, far younger and fairer than he was, had initiated a kiss and because I had thanked him for the fuck. I was male whore, and he knew that I was. We were just finishing a transaction.

But were we really? I could go another round with him and as he reached up and turned on the lights in the back of the van, I could see that he was still hard. He'd pulled the spent rubber off and tossed it toward the front of the van. He probably hadn't had any for a while. As he turned on the lights, he sat against the side wall of the van, his legs bent and spread. I rolled over in front of him, grasped both of his knees, and spread them. I could tell this aroused him as his shaft--a very nice, thick shaft--went to attention. I lowered my face into his crotch and took the cock in my throat.

That certainly surprised him as well. This was to be a one and done--for the ride he'd given us back up onto the parkway.

"Oh, shit, Matt. Oh, fuck," he murmured, running his fingers through my auburn hair with blond frosting and cupping my head as I gave him head. He was on the rise again. I reached into an indentation to the side of him in which a supply of condom packets were stuffed.

His eyes opened wide as I slit open a packet and rolled the rubber on his engorging cock. I'd seen him pop the Viagra before we'd come into the back of the van. I knew he was good for another fuck--or two. And we were already beyond the question of whether he could do me good.

"You don't have too... the deal was just once for the ride," he stammered. "And with all you have to--"

"This is because I don't have to... because I want to," I answered.

He groaned and gave a low moan as I climbed into his lap, facing him, legs bent and the balls of my feet pressed into the floor boards to give me leverage. I would do the fucking this time. I reached under, encased his cock, and held it in position as I sank my ass channel on it. Both of us were moaning--him in a low register, me higher--as he grasped my waist between his hands and took my mouth with his for deep kisses. As I got a good rhythm going with the rise and fall on his erection, I disengaged the kiss and reclined back, pressing my fists into the floor of the van, while he held my waist steady with his left hand, slowly jacked me with his right, and lowered his face to devour my nipples.

From time to time I saw out of the corner of my eye him reaching for restraints, but pulling back.

"You want more, don't you Roy?" I hissed. "Yes, do what you want. Do me. Do me hard. I won't break."

"You sure?" he queried.

"Yes," I responded, immediately, definitively.

He grasped my waist between both hands, and I just lay back, his to master, and he pulled me on and off the shaft in long, deep slides in an ever-faster rhythm until I was flopping around on the cock and crying out, "Fuck, yes! Screw the hell out of me! You're a stud! Drill me!"

I wouldn't have opted to be a male prostitute if I didn't like being fucked.

He was a big, strong man. When he was revved up, he could take what he wanted. He could do with me what he wanted at this point. My mind raced on the thought that he would be so hopped up at this point that he would do with me what I suspected he did with other young men he brought to the van--spread-eagle restrain me against the wall and bring out his sex toys. Something inside me half hoped he would do so. I had been there with men before. He didn't, though.

He lifted me, turned me to the mat and put me on my back. Grabbing a bolster from nearby that I knew was for this purpose, he stuffed it under my lower back, lifting and rolling my pelvis up, providing perfect access for him when he was on his knees between my thighs. He grasped my wrists and forced them over my head.

I felt my hands brush against leather and I looked up, seeing that there were restraints for the wrists there. "Do it. Bind my wrists," I begged. "Put me at your mercy. Make me your captive."

He groaned in arousal, but he did as I bade him do--he restrained my wrists over my head. After he'd made me his captive he moved his cock into position, thrust up inside me deep, and immediately resumed the pumping. I hooked my ankles above his buttocks and moved with him, ever faster, ever wilder, crying out, "Fuck me! Screw me deep!" We collapsed together at the climax.

This was a great, initially slow, eventually wild, total fuck, and this time we came together. And this time it was an almost tearful Roy who said "Thank you."

As we dressed and he was ready to release me from the van, he said, "You weren't anything like I imagined you would be."

"Neither were you, Roy. Neither were you."

"If you're back in the valley again, or if you're on another club run--this was your first, wasn't it--?"

"Yes, this was my first club run. And if you'll give me your contact numbers, I'm sure I'll be back."

"You would take my contact info? You're not shitting me? You'd let me do you again?"

"Yes, Roy. Give me your contact info. You did me great. I'm not shitting you. If there's a next time, maybe we can use some of these other restraints or toys. You could restrain me spread-eagled at all points and make me suffer."

He gave me a totally disarmed look with that underlying a surge of lust and a growl deep in his core. But he didn't act on it then, and I didn't have time to encourage him to. I knew, though, that he wouldn't forget me and would masturbate to fantasies tonight of what we could be doing if I went back down the mountain with him.

But I didn't have the time, and he knew I was on a schedule.

I wasn't lying about either coming back to him someday or coming back for more of the fetishes he might have. I had a few of those myself. Considering all of the men who'd covered me so far on this run and in anticipation of all that still would, I think that Roy would come out as a highlight. He took his time with me, and he was grateful for what he got.

He had given me pleasure. I liked being fucked. I liked being fucked rough. I liked being tied up and taken hard. I wanted him to spread-eagle me and work me over with toys and a whip. That likely had something to do with me getting this gig.

* * * *

Roy let me out of the back of the van, closed the doors, and worked his way up front to the driver's seat. I walked around to the driver's window. He wrote out contact information on a pad of paper, backed by a clipboard, and handed it out the window. When our hands met, he didn't release either the paper or my hand for a couple of extra seconds.

"You sure?" he asked.

"Yes. I'm sure to go through your area again. I'll call."

"I can be rough and cruel."

"I've been in the back of this van. You don't have to tell me that. I can see it."

"And you're not--?"

"It got me hard. I wouldn't mind trying more."

"You'll a real find, Matt. The best guy the club had come up with so far."

I took the paper and backed away from the van. I was aware that the women were standing on the terrace of the Big Meadows welcome center for the Skyline Drive, running along the tops of the Blue Ridge Mountains, north and south, in the center of Virginia. Roy had parked the van at the very southern edge of the visitor center's parking lot and it wasn't a busy day. All of the other cars were parked up close to the building. I figured it was good he'd parked that far away. There toward the end of the second fuck I could hear and feel the shocks on the van rocking and complaining. It was turn-on music to my ears.

I stood there until Roy had pulled out and then turned and walked to the women. We were all dressed in hiker's gear to blend in. The Appalachian Trail went through here too, so there were hikers on the roads and at the various overlooks and parking areas along the hundred-mile Skyline Drive that met up with the Blue Ridge Parkway at its southern terminus. Then the Blue Ridge Parkway runs for another 470 miles down into the Great Smoky Mountains in North Carolina.

We were here for business too, so we took a bow to being dressed sexy as well as hike ready. That meant I wore a tight T-shirt over my cut torso and tight, short shorts, with heavy socks and hiking boots on my feet. I shouldered a stuffed backpack on my back. The women I was traveling with included a light-chocolate mixed-race twenty-year-old buxom beauty, Charlene, who was a lot tougher than she looked, and Hazel, our blonde guide, who was into her forties, solidly built, and just as tough as she looked. Both women were dressed pretty much like I was, advertising very nice curves--nicer in Charlene's case than Hazel's, but Hazel, hard as nails, would be some men's idea of a better ride. There wouldn't be anything that Hazel wouldn't know how to do. She was the worrier of our little threesome, but that was her job. Charlene and I were the different flavors of candy for this enterprise. The real standout were Charlene's tits. I had learned early that men couldn't keep their hands off them.

"You certainly took your time," Hazel said, as I approached.

"And a good time was had by all," I answered. "Our ride hasn't arrived yet, has it?"

"I've been in contact. They're only ten minutes out."

"So, my timing is really good then. That must be them pulling in now." I looked at Charlene who had been pretty silent. "You OK, Charlene?" I asked. "It was pretty rough in Waynesboro last night. You've had three nights of this, with more business than I've gotten."

"It was fine," she said.

And then a dark blue Honda Odyssey with tinted windows pulled up by us and four muscle guys, handsome devils, two my age and two older, one in his thirties and one in his forties, piled out, all joking and with big grins. The big grins were for Charlene and me. I knew they would be.

Introductions were made all around with the doors still open on the SUV, signaling we wouldn't be staying around here too long. The guy in charge, Cliff, white, was the forties guy. The two young guys were absolute muscle hunks. The SUV driver, white, was Dex. The other younger guy, Nate, was white as well and was good-looking but thuggish and had a foul mouth on him. He also was all hands and had a hand on Charlene's butt right off the bat. She didn't seem to mind it being there, though. His eyes were on her tits. The Thirties guy, was black and a huge bruiser and the silent, glaring type. That was Jackson.

Cliff and Jackson were carrying fancy video cameras and took some quick footage of all of us meeting and greeting, but Cliff kept rushing people to get into and out of position. He obviously wanted to get back on the road quickly. When he passed me a couple of times, he took his time to squeeze my butt, though, so I figured out where his interest lay. As far as I could see it would be Dex and Cliff laying me. Dex put a possession arm around me in the video shots and had copped a feel already. Nate and Jackson had already as good as laid Charlene with their eyes, although Jackson had given me a good look too. They were getting the same privileges Roy had gotten with me. They provided transportation to and from the mountaintop parkway pickup points. For that they had privileges to lay Charlene or me, depending on their preference.

I already knew that there'd be some extra work at this stop. This was the fourth day of a six-day contracted trip from Roanoke to Front Royale on the parkways running across the top of the Blue Ridge, so I knew the routine--and I'd known countless cocks already, in their choice of holes. Charlene had taken more than I had, and she had one more available hole than I did.

"You decided where we're going to do this up here before going down into Luray?" Hazel asked.

"Yes," Cliff answered. "Whiteoak Canyon picnic area is just eight miles back. There wasn't much traffic there, and there are trails leading off that and a stream going down the mountain. Looks like some good spots."

And then we were in the SUV, headed north, back toward where the guys picking us up had come from. I sat up front with the driver, Dex, who kept giving me assessing looks. Cliff and Hazel were in the two seats behind us and the black guy, the thuggish guy, and Charlene were all the way in the back, Charlene in the middle.

We weren't even out of the parking area before the guys in the back were doing Charlene. Both of the guys were leaning into her. I watched through the rear-view mirror. Charlene had that huge set of tits on her. The men loved playing with Charlene's rack. That's what they usually went for first, and they did so now. I could see that Nate was itching to get his hands on those even before we got in the vehicle. And now he did have his hands on them. He'd pulled her T-shirt up to above the tits and had his hands on them, squeezing them. He already was leaning down and sucking the nipples. That was a way to get Charlene in the mood. She was arching her head back, with her eyes closed, and was mewing. Give her five minutes of this and she'd let you slip your cock inside her cunt.

There was an aisle between the seats Cliff and Hazel were in, so I got a crotch shot of Charlene in the rear-view mirror. She was wearing men's shorts and the black guy, Jackson, had the fly of those unzipped and a beefy hand inside cupping and playing with her cunt.

Charlene didn't seem to mind. This was what she was here for. Sold on the idea of being laid right there in the backseat, she went to turning her head from one side to the other, kissing each of the guys who already were playing her ripe body with their hands. And she had jutted her pelvis out, pressing into Jackson's hand. He had fingers in her and she was rocking on them. Dex must have been watching them in the mirror too even while negotiating the top-of-the-mountains winding and dipping road. He gave me a grin and reached over with one hand and traced how I was dressed inside my tight shorts. He went as far as to unzip me, but he found the road needed to much attention to go farther.

I just smiled at him. Like Charlene, I knew what we were here for.

"If you can keep it on the road, Sport, I'll do the honors."

"Go for it," he growled.

I took the hint and unzipped him and freed a big slug of a cock. I slow stroked him as he drove. We didn't have far to go. He managed to keep it on the road, but he was driving well under the speed limit.

Fifteen minutes and we were pulling into a parking area on the eastern side of the mountain, which had a cleared section under trees beyond the parking lot. A few wooden picnic tables were scattered around. There were a few cars parked there but no evidence of people. Trails led off in various directions. Hikers must have parked here and would come back eventually.

Well, most of us, piled out of the SUV. Cliff, Hazel Jackson, Dex, and I came out. Cliff and Jackson had the video cameras. The guys lit up cigarettes. Dex stood close to me and looked me over like I was his lunch. I surmised that I probably was. The others were showing interest in me. Cliff and Jackson were conversing about something that had to do with the fancy video cameras. I heard them talking about camera angles and positions and about one camera being careful not to get the other on in the frame. Hazel made a beeline for a picnic table, settled at it, and took out a pack of cigarettes and her cellphone. She was settled for a while.