I was out driving my truck around in the country one morning, meant to be meeting my buddy Harland over at his place to remove this big bastard snappin’ turtle that had bedded down in Harland’s neighbor’s pond. Harland bred show turtles, he’d done that for I don’t know how long. He’s still got a whole mess of them in these tanks all over his house. Some of ‘em are real nice. Well anyway, he ended up canceling on me, again.
I decided to go drive around anyway, since I was already out. So, I was taking my time on the old roads, corncob pipe in one hand, newspaper in the other, when I saw this hitchhiker, thumbing me down for a ride. I decided to stop as I wasn’t in any hurry, and this dude had a nice look about him. That of course means he had a bulge in his crotch I could see from a mile away. So, I pulled over and he threw his backpack and gear into the bed of the truck then hopped in beside me.
Just to paint y’all a word picture here. The dude was probably in his twenties, with a mop of curly hair and stubbly brown beard that looked like it was from lack of razor and not from actual planning. He was wearing tan cargo shorts, hiking boots, and ratty Aerosmith t-shirt. Sweet Jesus, I love cargo shorts. These hung loosely on the dude’s skinny frame. I reckoned he was going commando on account of the two balls I counted pressed into the fabric as he sat down and the sweat stain down his ass I noticed as he threw his bags into the truck. If I could have pressed his ass right into my face at that moment, I would have without hesitation.
I drove on and the dude excitedly introduced himself. He said his name was Chuck, but he always went by “Nubbin” on account of his third nipple which he showed to me, after yanking up his t-shirt. I was so distracted I nearly ran right into a fencepost and would have if the dude hadn’t of yelled out at the last minute.
As we went on down the road, I asked him where he needed to go. He just said somewhere in town, so that’s the direction I headed. It was a nice day. I had the windows down and a Tammy Wynette cassette in the tape-deck. I asked Nubbin to take the wheel while I rolled us a joint and he was happy to oblige.
After a few puffs we started talking about life and the wide, mysterious universe around us. Nubbin asked me if I had a girlfriend. I sensed this was a question to test my sexuality. I’d gotten it before from semi-straight dudes like him. “Nope,” I answered with a chuckle, “I’m real into cock. Hot, sweaty cock.” Why waste time with a lie?
Nubbin blushed and looked out the side window at the passing trees. “How about you?” I asked, passing my riding companion the joint again.
“Oh, um, yeah, I’ve got a girlfriend,” he answered shyly.
“Dang, bad day for me!” I laughed, but the dude stayed real quiet.
I glanced over and thought I caught a glimpse of him adjusting a sizeable boner in his pants. He did that thing straight dudes do when they chub up and he sort of pulled at the sides of his shorts to loosen them away from his crotch. “Girlfriend, huh? What’s her name?” I continued.
Nubbin hesitated then said, “Lucy, um she’s up in Missouri.”
“I see. Girlfriend goes to another school, huh?” I laughed.
Nubbin didn’t appear to get my joke. “No, we’re not in school,” he answered seriously. “I met her when I was working on an organic farm up near Springfield.”
“You ever experiment with another man’s body, Nubbin?” I interrupted, breaking through that ice with a damn sledgehammer.
Nubbin started to sweat and stammered his words. “I’m not gay…” he said, pressing down on his crotch again.
“No, no, I get it. I’m just making conversation. No pressure here, dude.”
“No, no, what I’m trying to say is I’m not gay, but the ghost inside my body is.”
I pulled the truck off to the side of the dirt road. I lifted my sunglasses and Nubbin stared blankly out the window again. “What’s that now?” I asked. “A gay ghost inside of you?”
Nubbin nodded, “I’ve had it for a while. I used to live in this haunted house, and I must have picked it up there.”
As a semi-professional gay Spiritist I could smell out a ghost from across town, and this dude didn’t have any ghost anywhere near his body. I reckoned he might have been overcompensating for some hidden guilt surrounding his own sexuality. But hell, I’m no therapist, so I went along with his story. “That’s just terrible, Nubbin,” I replied, placing a hand on the dude’s shoulder.
“Mister, I think my gay ghost wants to make an appearance.”
I looked down and saw Nubbin’s cock twitching underneath his tan cargo shorts. He was breathing heavy already and sweating up a storm despite the pleasant weather outside.
“Nubbin, if you need to let him out, I’m happy to oblige,” I said, tracing a small circle on the dude’s cockhead with my forefinger.
Nubbin reached behind my head and pulled me forward into a hard, sloppy kiss. He sucked at my tongue like he was searching for oil. I pressed and palmed at his rod through his cargo shorts, making him moan into my mouth. Suddenly, Nubbin pulled away from me. I halfway expected him to stop then and there, but to my surprise he frantically started unbuckling his shorts. While he worked, I raised up the dude’s t-shirt just high enough to access that third nipple, a few inches below his left one. It had some more wispy hairs than the other two but in all other respects looked like an ordinary nipple. For some reason it made my hard cock twitch in my jeans.
I leaned forward and licked the nipple softly. Nubbin stopped unzipping his shorts and grabbed my head with both his hands, running his fingers through my hair. I worked circles around the nipple with my tongue, and every now and then sucked it red. I took a brief detour in the dude’s fragrant armpit, covered in a patch of thin, blond hairs. He smelled like a man who’d been thumbing down the road for a while now. I kissed and rubbed my face into the pit. Nubbin finished taking of his shirt, giving me better access. Then I felt his hands gently push my head lower, back to the nipple, then lower still across his tight, hairless chest. I knew what he wanted.
I grabbed at the waistband of his shorts, now fully unzipped and yanked them down in one pull. His sweaty package lay in full view, unconstrained by underwear. His uncut cock flopped backward onto the dude’s stomach as I pulled off the shorts. It was a fantastic specimen. Around six inches, with a good-sized girth. His balls hung below, loose in their sack from the heat of the shorts and covered in wispy blond pubes. He looked like he preferred trimming his bush on occasion, and I couldn’t help wondering how that worked out with his hitchhiking. Did he have a trimmer with him?
Nubbin leaned his head backwards and closed his eyes, still breathing heavily. “The ghost inside me wants it, mister. Go on,” he moaned as his hard cock flopped around on his stomach in anticipation.
I grabbed the dude’s cock at the base and brought it to my awaiting lips, pushing back his foreskin with my lips and tongue. My other hand massaged his balls gently, rolling them back and forth through my fingers with care. Nubbin moaned again and swore under his breath. I felt his hand return to my head as he guided me into a rhythmic pace. Up, down, up, down. I sucked and jerked his cock slowly at first then quickened as my throat got used to this foreign object invading its space. My free hand dropped from the dude’s balls and inched toward his awaiting hole. I felt Nubbin tense up and I pulled off of his cock momentarily, swallowing a big gulp of spit and precum. “You okay?” I asked.
Nubbin grinned and nodded, “Go ahead, the ghost likes butt stuff,” and he slid down in the seat some more, letting his knees rest up on the dashboard.
I excitedly went back to work on his pulsating donger while my free hand massaged gently down his most chode. Soon my middle finger found the crevice of his ass cheeks. I pulled off his cock again, only for a second, to wet my middle finger with a big lick before going back to work. I picked up my pace as I carefully pushed my finger inch by inch into Nubbin’s ass passage. “Oh sweet Jesus, yes,” he moaned, bringing both his hands to my head now.
I could tell he was really into it, so I upped the ante. I searched his innards with my middle finger until I found the hard, lumpy spot of the prostate. I worked with my finger in a circle at first, then a cross pattern, then back to a circle. By now, Nubbin was using about every cuss word he knew, I reckoned. For a straight dude, he was sure enjoying getting sucked off. I thought about pausing to let out my own cock, straining against my underwear and jeans, but I didn’t want to break focus, and we were both close to cumming.
Nubbin retreated into his own mind as an orgasm approached. All he could do was let out a series of moans in time with the rhythm of my slurping and sucking. I matched the beat with my middle finger, rubbing lines across the dude’s prostate. I matched the beat even in myself as I humped forward, driving my hard cock into the tight leg of my jeans.
Nubbin’s ballsack began to shrivel slightly towards his abdomen. His cock hardened even more. His asshole tightened around my finger. His moans suddenly stopped as he began shooting into my mouth. I swallowed as much as I could, but the dude must have been saving up for a while because I had to let some fall out around my lips. Has Nubbin came, so did I, jizzing right there into my jeans and not even caring.
I continued working Nubbin’s softening cock, wanting to take in as much as I could of this hot hitchhiker to store away as a memory for jacking off later on. The dude finally stopped me, and I pulled off. We both sat back into our seats in silence. I glanced down at the dark patch on my jeans where the cum was beginning to dry. “Goddamn, dude,” I laughed as I reached behind my seat.
As I wiped off my face and beard on an old, crusty towel I kept in the truck for such occasions, I noticed a strange taste in my mouth, completely unlike cum. It was sweet, with a hint of cloves and cinnamon. I examined a glob on the towel. It was ectoplasm. In shock, I looked over at Nubbin who reached out for the towel. I decided not to tell him about my findings. I reckoned he probably already knew that gay ghost inside him had special semen.
Nubbin dressed in silence as I started the truck. We didn’t talk much the rest of the way back to town. Once we reached a more populated area, the dude pointed to a gas station and said I could just drop him off there. I parked the truck and helped him grab his big backpack out from the bed. Nubbin thanked me, passed me a twenty-dollar bill, then started for the gas station. I couldn’t just let him leave without saying anything. I grabbed his shoulder and he turned around. “First of all, keep your money, you might need it,” I said, stuffing the bill back down into his shorts pocket. “Second, here’s my card, call me if you ever need to talk.”
Nubbin took the card out of my hand and read the front, “Buffalo Maldoon, semi-professional gay Spiritist, ghost hunter, paranormal expert,” he looked up at me in shock and started to say something, but I stopped him.
“Call me if you need to talk,” I repeated with a smile before heading back to the truck.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/gxf3gn/the_hitchhiker_with_three_nipples_mm_oral_ass