Sex Histories	Sex Histories Archive

Vermont­ For me this has been the summer of sex at the rest stops. I suppose it's been going on for as long as there's been sex and rest stops, but it was all brand new to me. It takes a while to nail down which are the good spots and good times, but once you do, there's good action without fail. Look particularly for "no rest rooms" stops that have wooded picnic areas.

Here is what happened last night. I went to the stop nearest home, a pull-over that has a concrete stairway leading to a picnic area and woodland trails above. The routine is: you walk past the parked cars, go to the stairs, and lean against the overlook fence. Pretty soon someone will come up, cruise past you, and go off down one of the woodland trails. If you're interested, you follow.

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Last night, the first one was a slim young guy who gave a lot of massage to his crotch as he cruised by. I followed. In the woods, he had his peter out as though he might be taking a leak. I slowly approached him. He let go his cock and it immediately sprang up. I gave it a massage with one hand while lowering my pants with the other. He immediately flopped down and began sucking my cock like a starved man.

When I felt near shooting, I tried to ease him off, because I didn't want to come yet. He sprang to his feet and began furiously jacking me. I tried to get him off but couldn't make him let go.

Just then I noticed there were two other guys standing nearby watching. I managed to get the maniac jacker off of me and approached the bigger of the two guys. He was quite a bundle: a real jock with blond crew cut and pecs bulging under his tee shirt. I reached out and gave his prong a massage. He didn't mind, so I eased down his shorts and went to work on his dick. It was large, had a nice upturn and a big round head­ like my own.

But the best part was putting my hands into action. God, what a body!

But then I felt a cock banging against my cheek. It was his buddy. So, it was only friendly to give him a suck as well, though he was smaller and in no way spectacular.

But whenever I could, I'd transfer back to the jock.

It didn't last long, because the jock patted me on the shoulder, said "Thanks," and he and his buddy split. I did too, because I didn't want to be attacked again by the maniac jacker.

But I hadn't been in my pickup long before something went by much too good to pass up. He was just my type, a real working man­ square jaw with five o'clock shadow and a sinewy body that comes from manual labor.

I got myself up the stairs after him and eased in alongside on the overlook fence. We had the usual "nice night" conversation, but he wouldn't look at me and made no overtures, and I knew he was going to be tough.

I decided it was best not to grope him, and said instead, "Look, there's a nice quiet place back there, if you'd like to go," pointing to one of the less used trails.

He didn't say anything. I headed off into the woods. He didn't follow. I waited. At last he came. He stood at a little distance. I walked fast up to him and right away I went down on him, giving him good firm strokes, my hands helping on his no-flab ass.

Then he pushed me back. I thought, "Okay, that's that." But he turned around and put that great flat hard ass against my mouth.

In a flash, it occurred to me that this guy's a serious-minded virgin who thinks it's his duty to experience everything.

Kissing him all over

I rose and worked my thumb against his butt hole. Of course it was small and tight. I got out some lubricant and then I worked my thumb into his hole. Then I put a condom on and started rhythmically applying pressure. Slowly I got a wedge in his ass, but it was long, hard work, and I didn't think he was going to be able to open up.

But then, all of a sudden, my cock popped inside. He let out a mighty huh! and I had to touch his cock to see if he'd come. No. So, I started slowly working to get my cock all the way in.

During all of this he was absolutely quiet and didn't once touch me with his hands. Finally I got it so that I could take strokes inside him. But he was still very tight.

Just as we'd settled in for some good action, here's a new guy hurrying up and flopping down to suck my guy's cock. But both his looks and his personality are pretty lousy, and soon we're all off balance and the excitement has gone out of it. I decided not to hassle it, and I split back to my pickup.

I'm there maybe two minutes when the new guy is pounding on my window. "It's you he wants," he says, and he shoves my workingman beauty forward towards me. He stands there and looks me square in the eyes. My heart is pounding.

"Let's go into the back of my pickup," I say to him. "It's got a mattress there."

So we go back and I lock the rear window against our "friend."

I slow-strip him, kissing him all over. I particularly kiss the palms of his hands, which are heavily callused but alive with sensitivity, even though his arms are just lying there.

I get naked myself, put on a new condom, and go up his ass. It isn't any easier than the first time, but now I'm willing to take all the time in the world, because I feel there's something real between us. I have his legs over my shoulders, my hands on his pecs, and am staring at that unshaven, masculine face. Just as I'm about to come, I hear a groaning nearby. Our "friend" has his lips mashed against the side window and is pounding off against the side of the pickup.

I flop down and shove and come. Man, this is what it's all about.

'His skin is terrific'

I don't know how much time passes, but the next thing I'm aware of, there's a spotlight shining in the rear window and the crackle of a cruiser's intercom.

Both of us go rigid. Luckily, the blanket is pulled up pretty much over our heads. So we just freeze that way.

It must have been half an hour that the cops raced up and down the stairs, flashing lights and barking, "Come here, you!" But at long last, they moseyed on out.

In an instant, my partner bolted up, cracking his head against the roof, jammed on his clothes, and was out of there.

Raiding a rest stop is about as effective as swatting at a horse fly. In 15 minutes the place was full again.

Having a good fuck always makes me hornier than ever, so I set out to find something new. I was just walking past the car behind me when the window rolls down. It's a cute little Latino.

"Too dangerous here," he says. "I know a place to go."

So I get back in my pickup and follow him.

At the next exit we go to a parking lot of a cinema complex and down to the far end where there are woods. He has a couple of blankets, and I follow him out into the thicket.

But pretty soon the path gives out and we're crashing around in the underbrush and swamp.

"I haven't been here in a while," he says apologetically.

We go back and after a while he finds the right trail. He spreads his blankets, whips off his clothes, then arches back on his elbows so his cock is straight up in the air.

His skin is terrific, juicy, dark and smooth like a plum. I enjoy massaging him as much as sucking. But suck I do. And suck and suck.

Finally I ease off and concentrate on licking and massaging. But his cock is making furious pumping motions, so I go to work again.

I don't know how long I was at it but he doesn't seem any nearer to coming than ever, so I let go.

Immediately he gathers up his stuff and is gone.

This morning I'm covered with mosquito bites. But that won't stop me from being back at it tonight.

(later) More from your rest stop correspondent.

Last night, at the local rest stop, I hit the ground running. I had off four guys. My neck and sweat shirt were soaked with cum. Today I've got a hard on throbbing so bad I don't know if I can hold out until tonight. Life is wonderful.

There's a rest stop not too near where I live but well worth going to every few nights. The main area is an open space under some tall trees with a few broken picnic tables. Here, mid-evening, there are usually 10 to 15 guys doing a slow glide. The standard costume is white sweat shirt and short white pants, so it looks sort of like ghosts of fallen warriors.

But of course it's also a mating dance and gradually guys are approaching each other in a twosome, threesome, or foursome.

It sometimes looks like a serious conference. Then the stroking of crotches begins, first your own, then the guy you're interested in.

'I'm getting a sore face'

Then you drift off down a short trail to a smaller clearing in the rear. It's sometimes quite crowded back there, groups of three or four, one guy doing the sucking while the others watch and rub and stroke.

The other night I went directly back there and joined a group already in motion. I went down on my knees next to the current sucker, began playing with thighs, and pretty soon there were a couple of cocks headed in my direction.

I did the alternate action routine, giving hand to one guy, mouth to the other, reverse, mouth to the second guy, hand to the first. But after a while I became very fond of the guy to my right for his thick big-veined cock and an ass it was a pleasure to hold on to. I quickly rose and gave him a hard kiss. He responded. So we get into a session of deep kissing,

After a while I felt my shorts being eased down and hot air on my ass. Then a tongue was licking its way around my thigh and a head forced in between me and my buddy. The wet lips closed over my cock. But pretty soon my buddy shoves the sucker away and begins thrusting his meat against mine. And he's moaning louder and louder into my mouth. I'm getting near to shooting myself, so I go back to my pickup to cool down and have a drink.

After a while something real good is cruising by and off up one of the trails. I follow. He's a thick-set Mediterranean type with long black hair and an all-day-at-the-gym body. And he's in a hurry. With one hand he whips down his shorts and with the other he shoves me down. And he's shoving in his thick short cock like he wants it to come out the back.

Pretty soon I'm getting a sore face, so I rise and start rough-kissing and biting his nipples. I'm going at it so hard that at first I don't even notice he's got his finger up my ass. But when I do, I push it out.

"What the fuck is that!" he says, loud and angry.

And he turns around and crashes off into the under brush.

I take a trail guys use if they want to do some serious fucking.

There's one tree back there that has a patch of bark worn smooth about six feet high from guys bracing their hands against it, and there are two indentations in the dirt where their partners have rocked while they heaved it home.

'I sucked and sucked'

And sure enough, there's a pair at it now. A good looking young couple, stripped naked and having a real workout. It's full moon and an absolutely magical scene. I watch without letting them know I'm there until I come in a great free-spurting arch in the blue white light.

I leave without disturbing them. The scene stays firmly implanted on my eyes and in about two minutes I'm as horny as ever.

I go back to the pick-up for another drink, then wander through the clearing among the slow-dancing ghosts.

There's a path off to the right that runs parallel to the parking lot. In the gully between the woods and the lot are tall standing lights that cast strong orange rays down through the leaves. You can feel the light and shadow ripple over you as you stalk like a hunter looking for other ripples ahead.

When I saw one, I increased my speed. And when he heard me, he stopped and turned. He was tall and thin and looked very blond under that light. I approached him without slackening my pace and put my hands on his rib cage. (The point is not to do anything hesitant once you've made contact.) Then I ran my hands up and down his silky shirt. Then I put my hands under his shirt and ran my hands up and down his body, which was silky too and without a trace of flab. My hands continued down his hipless hips and thighs until his shorts were off and his cock was aimed at my mouth. It was long and thin and round, and when I took it, it was silky too.

Out of ribbon, so that's all for today.

(later) I am addicted to cock. I love them thick, thin, long, short. Every night I suck from one to a dozen. And when I'm not doing it I'm thinking about it.

After dark I go to a rest stop, spot a guy, approach, touch, ease his shorts off his hips, go down on my knees, massage his thighs, play with his balls and ass until his dick pops up, then I put it in my mouth and I suck it. Until either I feel him coming, and I finish him by hand, getting a spray on my face and clothes; or we've both had enough.

And then I go get another guy. And then another.

Last night was one of the weakest nights. But that was mainly because it was cold.

I went to a rest stop I don't use that much, for a change. I went off into the woods where there was a car and a bike parked. Back behind a picnic table was a guy in a leather jacket and another middle-aged guy with a beard just getting off his knees. I approached and indicated I was available but they'd evidently finished their business and hurried past me and sped off.

So I went to where another driverless car was parked and down the trail nearby. Sure enough, there was a nice hunk down there pretending to piss. When I walked towards him he put it back in his pants and started to leave. But I reached out and gently got hold of his crotch. He stopped. So right away I went on my knees pulling down his shorts as I went. I began massaging up under his shirt and all down his legs. But my hands were too damn cold and it wasn't warming him up. So I got his half-hard cock in my mouth. I could tell if I got it hard it was going to be a beauty. But I sucked and sucked and it stayed right where it was.

I got my hand working along the shaft under his balls, and that helped a little. But somehow the whole thing was turning into a hard work assignment and I wasn't surprised when I heard, "I gotta go," and he split.

Author Profile:  Boyd McDonald

Born in 1925 in South Dakota, Boyd McDonald entered Harvard as a high-school dropout after serving in the army in World War II. Jobs with Time, IBM, and several Wall Street firms preceded Boyd's career as a chronicler of gay sex. He was the founder and editor of Straight to Hell (alternatively the Manhattan Review of Cocksucking), and later published a number of anthologies of true sex histories. Boyd died in September 1993, two months after completing his final book, Scum.