DROWNING
IN THE DESERT
By Larry C. Kephart
Begun August 26, 2006
My mom was really pissed with me. She
said I was being a bum. I had just graduated from high school a month and a
half ago, and was just enjoying the summer. Mom thought I should do something
constructive with my time, like get a job. She worked hard to meet the bills on
time, and wanted me to help out. I still felt like a kid, and wanted to have
fun. But it wasn’t much fun running around with my high school
friends.
I missed my dad. He was killed in an
automobile accident when I was just fifteen.
He wasn’t wearing his seat belt, when his car was hit
by a truck. He was ejected from the car and broke his neck. Ever since, she
always made sure I put on my seat belt, whenever we drove anywhere. She said
she didn’t want me to end up like dad.
When the insurance people investigated
the accident, mom was told she would not get the full policy amount, because he
was not using the seat belt (properly). She ended up with only twenty thousand
dollars. She could pay for the funeral expenses, and had about twelve thousand
left to live on. She was a homemaker, and soon found she had to get a job. She
got lucky after a couple of months searching, and became an executive’s secretary
for a large company. Still, the house payments took a lot, and we didn’t have much
money to spare.
Dad and I used to have so much fun on
weekends. Mom liked to get us out of the house, so she could get the cleaning
done. We were a couple of messy guys, who just got in her way. Dad would take
me to sporting events, movies and especially the beach. We lived in Los
Angeles, and so, were close to many great beaches.
Dad and I both liked to wear brief bikini
style swimsuits. We got a lot of looks from both women and men, as we were very
similar in looks and builds. It was almost like we were twins. Dad had a tight
body from working out at the gym every night after work. I was on the football
team and lifted weights in school. When we lay on out beach towels, our
crotches stuck out pretty far from our abs. Dad said I would be a proud
specimen when I reached adulthood.
I admired his trim body, and sometimes found myself staring at it,
especially his dick and balls. I had to control myself, remembering that he was
my dad, after all. I frequently had to flip over onto my stomach to hide my
hard-on. It was especially difficult to hide my excitement when he had me put
suntan lotion on is backside. He also had the buns of a god. They were like
honeydew melons. I hoped that my buns were so perfect. Those days are gone
forever. I still miss him a whole lot.
I got lots of teasing from my teammates
about my skimpy tan line, when we showered.
I also got lots of whistles and catcalls about my big dick. The guys
said that any woman who got hold of me would scream for days. Little did they
know that women were not at all on my mind. I checked out the equipment on my
teammates. Most were small to average size, and none were as big as me. I am
glad to be done with school, as it was getting to be too much temptation to
grab the bigger guys dicks and suck them off, right there in the showers.
Anyway, back to the beginning. Mom and I
had a big blow-up about my not even searching for a job. We yelled at each
other for a long time. I finally said that if I wasn’t wanted, I
would leave. I stormed to my room and packed my suitcase with a few changes of
clothes and all the money I had in my piggy bank. Yes, I had a piggy bank. It
was from when I was a child. Dad had given it to me to save for big things I
wanted, like a new bike or baseball glove. It meant a lot to me, and reminded
me of my closeness with dad. There was a couple of hundred dollars in there. I
took it and left the bank where it was. It was too big to carry, otherwise I
would have taken it. I rushed out the door and down the street. Mom was in
tears, begging me not to go. It was too late. I was mad, and had to go.
I really didn’t know where
to go. When you are mad, you don’t think
right. I started hitchhiking by the freeway, going east. It was about nine in
the morning, when a Rolls Royce pulled up. The driver asked me where I was
going. I said anywhere, but here. He told me he was going to Las Vegas to do
some gambling. I said fine, and stashed my case in the back seat. I got in the front.
He introduced himself as Vince, short for Vincenzo. I told him my name was
Hank, short for Hank. He laughed at that.
Vince was not a very handsome man. He
was short, with dark hair, black eyes and a five o’clock shadow
that was really dark against his pale skin. It sort of looked blue, like in the
comics. His arms and legs looked thick and stubby. I really did not feel like I
would want to stay with him for the long trip. But, he was nice enough to stop
and give me a lift, so I told him thanks for the ride.
I told him the car was very nice. It had
plush leather seats, burl wood dashboard and a fabulous stereo. This was
luxury. I soon fell asleep. We had driven for a couple of hours without a stop,
and I had to piss badly. I asked Vince if he could stop somewhere, so I could
relieve myself. He said he would stop on a side road, so I would have some
privacy. There were no towns or even gas stations anywhere nearby. There was a
tall cactus that I quickly made a beeline for. I got behind it and let loose. It
only took me about twenty seconds, and I was done. When I went back around the
cactus, the Rolls was gone. Vince had left me there, and taken my suitcase.
I had a bad feeling about Vince from the
start, but ignored them for need of a ride. I was now stuck in the middle of
nowhere, without food or water. I only had my clothes and my money and my
identification. The rest was in the suitcase. The money was of no use, without
a store or restaurant, or even a gas station.
It was after eleven o’clock and the
sun was very hot. I started walking along the road in the direction Vince
probably went. The sun was high, so I could not tell east from west from north
and south. There was no shade, except for an occasional cactus. Everything else
was short brush on the flat desert landscape. My watch was still working, so I
knew it was about one o’clock, or shortly thereafter, that I passed out
from the heat and dehydration. I was delirious, and so, so dry. My lips and
mouth were as dusty as the dirt road.
I dreamed that I saw a big cow. It
talked to me, saying, “Here is something to drink.” I then thought I saw a really big udder
coming at me. It squirted on my lips. It was wet, and so I opened my mouth.
Another squirt wet the inside of my mouth. I reached out for the udder, and
stuck it in my mouth and sucked. More of the liquid filled my mouth and I
started to choke on the large amount of liquid life. I heard the cow say moo,
moo. I finally could taste the liquid that I thought would be milk, but it
tasted more like bitter lemonade. It was refreshing, and was saving my life, so
I drank and drank. The udder soon became larger and larger. Then the flavor
changed. It was more like cream, and came in spurts instead of a flow. I was
satisfied, and again passed out.
The next thing I remember was drowning.
Water was all over my head, and my face was down in a pool. I heard a waterfall
right above my head rushing into my ears. I sputtered and gasped for air. Some
hands pulled me from the pool and sat me up. The place was cool and smooth, but
sticky. When my senses came back to me, I found I was in a restroom. My head
was placed in the floor portion of a tall urinal. The waterfall was the
flushing of the valve and the pool was the drain well in the floor. There were
two sets of legs near me. When my eyes focused, there were two men standing
above me. One was a grubby man with a stubby beard and a cigar, in coveralls.
He was full of grease and smelled of gasoline. The other was a nice looking man
in slacks and a short-sleeved shirt.
The nicer looking man told me he was
glad I was revived. He introduced himself as Bret. He said that he was worried
that I would not make it. He had found me in the desert, and tried to get me to
a hospital, but the gas station was the first place where he could get me to
water. The grubby man grumbled and left. Bret asked if I could stand up. I
said, “I think so. Thanks.” He took my
arm and helped lift me off the restroom floor. Bret took some paper towels and
wet them, and carefully washed my face and hands. He then took off my shirt and
washed my neck, shoulders and torso. I felt so much better, but was still weak
from the ordeal. Bret got me dressed and bought me some water, soda and some
snacks. He took me to his car and sat me down. He buckled me in, being sure not
to hurt my sunburned skin.
Bret asked me how I had wound up in the
middle of the desert. I told him about Vince and how he left me stranded. I
described him and the car, and that my suitcase was in the back seat. Bret
called the police from the gas station’s public
phone. They got the direction and description of the car and driver. He had
stolen the car from a Beverly Hills estate after he had tied up the owners and
ransacked their valuables. My suitcase could be returned, if Vince was captured
soon. With our information, it would be easier.
Bret was concerned for me, and my
condition. He wanted to take me to a hospital, to have me checked out. I
assured him that I would be fine after I got some food and some sleep. He drove
me to the next café, where we had a nice late lunch. There was a motel next to
the café, and it was about four o’clock, by
then. Bret checked us into a room, and asked the management if my clothes could
be washed. They took them and said they would be ready in a couple of hours.
Bret suggested that I get the dust off
my body by taking a gentle shower. My legs were still a little weak, and I
asked if Bret could help me. I was already naked, without my clothes there, and
my skin was pretty red and sore. Bret got undressed and helped me get into the
shower/tub, and adjusted the water to a cooler setting. He got a washcloth and
soaped me up, being very gentle on my sunburned skin. It was so soothing to
have him touch me. Almost like my dad putting lotion on me at the beach. Bret
was very nice looking, now that I was more clear-headed. He was about thirty or
so years old, with reddish-brown short hair and green eyes that sparkled. He
was very trim, with fair sized muscles, round pecs and butt, and rippling abs.
He was neatly shaven with heavenly lips and a nose that was just right. His
ears were really cute, as they had sort-of points, like a pixie or elf.
The best feature of all was his cock and
balls. They were enormous. He was at least an inch or two longer than me, with
a pinkish head that poked from a small fold of foreskin left over from his
circumcision. The shaft was smooth and looked like a bullet racecar. His ball
sack was like two apricots hanging in a net. They had to
droop down about six inches. I started to get an erection. The blood rushed
from my head, and I fell limp in his arms. He held me up, and I recovered.
Getting back onto my feet, my hard cock brushed against his. His was hard, as
well. He was practically embracing me. I said I was sorry to embarrass him. He
leaned down and kissed me. We finished rinsing and toweled off.
Bret took me to one of the beds, and sat
me down. He told me that when he found me, I was close to dying of thirst. He
knew I needed water, but he had none with him. He only had one option, to give
me his urine. When I wet your lips and mouth, you sucked on me out of
desperation. I told you to go slow. You only sucked on me harder. I got erect
and blew a load in your mouth after giving you the urine. I am so sorry, but I
could not help myself. After I found the gas station, the mechanic helped me
get you into the restroom to some water. The sink was too high to hold you up,
so we used the urinal as a way to revive you. I am sorry for that, too.
I told Bret that I was glad that he came
along and cared enough to save my life. It didn’t matter how
it was done, or what happened as a result. I told him I even enjoyed the taste
of the urine and cum, even though I was mostly out of it. He got a kick out of
the way I thought he was a cow with a big udder. The “Moo, moo.” was his “Go slow.”, translated
by delirium. I told Bret that I was even grateful for the baptism in the urinal
and everything that followed up until that moment. I leaned over and kissed him
tenderly.
Both our cocks jumped up of their own
accord, and our hands started feeling each other all over again. We both had a
fresh smell on our bodies from the shower. My skin was still quite sensitive
from the sunburn, but I knew Bret would be careful. I thrust my tongue into his
mouth and probed for his tonsils. He returned the favor, using his tongue to
wrestle with mine. I started kissing all over his face and neck, then traveled
down his chest to his tan nipples. They rose to hard nubs as I sucked and
chewed on them each, while massaging the other with my fingers. My other hand
was busy exploring his hard shaft and bouncy balls. If I was in Hell in the
desert, I was in Heaven here, with Bret.
Bret told me he had never been with
another man before, and he wasn’t sure that I was going to be able to handle
his size. I told him that I had always admired my dad and his package, and
wanted to go for it. I then went down and took his cock in my mouth and gently
sucked it to full hardness. Taking it slowly at first, I got into the feel of
the thickness in my throat. I took a little more, then a little more, until I
had it all in. I had to learn how to breathe with my airway cut off. Bret was
moaning with pleasure. His hands held my head, and running his fingers through my
hair, he gasped.
He wanted to do the same to me, before
he blew his wad. He needed to cool off for a few minutes. We switched
positions, and he started blowing me like there was no tomorrow. He was a pro,
for a novice. He took all of me in one brave move. Had he really never been
with a man? I wonder. Maybe his passion taught him all he needed to know. I was
hard in no time. I was getting close to coming, and asked him to stop. I had
heard of guys getting fucked, and felt we should try that for a while. Bret
asked “Who fucks who?” I told him it was my idea, so he should fuck
me, first. “Just take it easy, as my sunburn still hurts.” I said.
Bret went to the bathroom to get some
lotion. He brought the small bottle to the bed, and fished a condom out of his
wallet. He put the lotion on my anus, and slowly pushed his fingers in, one,
then two, then three, to loosen me up. He asked me if it was too much. I told
him that he was doing great, and to go for the prize. Bret put on the condom,
and some lotion, and stuck the tip in the vacancy made by the missing fingers.
It felt good, and I told him so. He pushed a bit more, and said it was half-way
in. “Give it all to me!” I squealed.
He shoved all ten inches into my now, un-virgin hole. He began a slow in and
out with most of the length of his cock. Then he picked up speed and forced his
way to my prostate. The feeling was tremendous. I never knew man sex could be
so wonderful. He must have ground my butt for twenty minutes or more, before he
let me know he was going to come.
I didn’t want to
lose it in a condom, so I asked Bret if I could take it in my mouth. He pulled
out and quickly got up to my face and placed his fiery probe back into my
throat. Just a couple of strokes in and out, and I had a flood of my cow cream
back in my mouth. It tasted great. It was even better than in the desert. I
swallowed and swallowed, and still those big balls put out. Bret was huffing
and grunting like a bull. He finally got the last drops out, which I sucked greedily.
When he finished and pulled out, I smacked my lips, with a satisfied sigh
following. What a heck of a day I was having!
Bret said “Turn around
is fair play, Hank.” “I want to
suck you and then get fucked silly by you.” He then
took a deep breath and went back down on my dick for the long haul. He had me
close to orgasm about four times before putting a condom on me. He said he
always carried a spare, in case one breaks. I fingered his hole, like he had
done mine, and when he was nice and loose, I went in. I had only jerked off in
my hands before today, and the feeling of Bret’s ass was
much different. It was much better, too. A velvet tunnel with a grip all its own.
Not having any experience fucking
anything but my fist, I started slow. I catch on quickly, though, and got into
a good thrusting rhythm. Bret was moaning with pleasure, as he asked me for
more and more. Bret told me to tell him when I was about to come, so he could
also take my come in his mouth. I assured him that I would, and did, in about
another minute. Bret sucked my balls dryer than my mouth had been in the
desert. He was voracious. We both drifted off to sleep, very satisfied with out
sexual experiments.
At six o’clock, there
was a knock at the door. Bret wrapped a towel around his waist and answered the
door. It was the manager of the motel with my clothing, all fresh and clean.
Bret gave the manager a nice tip, thanking him, and closed the door. Bret told
me we could stay the night, as he wasn’t due in Las
Vegas for another day. We slept, had dinner at the café, and went back to our
room and repeated most of the passionate adventures, with some more
experimenting. He even tried to take my piss, while in the shower. He liked it!
We rested and watched some TV, then slept until the morning came.
We had breakfast, and drove on into Las
Vegas. Bret took me to the hospital to have me checked out for sun exposure and
dehydration. I got some medication for the sunburn, but was otherwise fine. I
asked the doctor if urine is harmful, if swallowed. He assured me that if there
is no infection in the givers’ system, it is not harmful, except if done to
excess. I told him that urine saved my life in the desert. He told me I was not
the only one. He had a similar experience, years ago, and not to worry.
Bret then took me to the police station,
to see about getting my suitcase back. They had it and I had to show
identification, and sign a release for it. Bret took me to his hotel in Las
Vegas. He said he was a contractor, and was building the largest hotel in the
city for a huge corporation. He was going to be there a long time. Bret asked
me what my plans were. I told him about my fight with my mother about not
having a job. Bret said that he had lots of jobs available on the project. I
could have my pick. I told him I would do anything, but I had to be close to
him. Bret understood, and said that he felt the same about me. I am now his
assistant, and travel with him everywhere.
My mom is proud that I have a job, and am
sending home more money than she ever dreamed of. The house is paid off, due to
a reward for information leading to the capture of Vincenzo. Bret and I have a
permanent suite at the largest hotel in Las Vegas, just for us. My stupid
gamble could have resulted in disaster, but it paid off, royally.
