The answer is obvious enough.
“Remind me of my son’s friend…” He whispers, his hands finding my hips.
And maybe the answer wasn’t quite that obvious.
“I promise I’m not weird,” he continues. “He’s twenty. How old are you?”
“Twenty.” I lie through my teeth, but in this world, everyone’s lying about something. Magnus always said lies were the food of the weak and that hunger for the truth was what separated the sinners from the cleansed. I buck my ass over his crotch. Even through two layers of denim—his and mine—I can feel his cock is enormous and thick.
“I miss being twenty.” He traces a hand through the contour of my abs, his fingers dipping between grooves of muscle. “Wasted all my younger years chasing pussy when all I really wanted...” He finds his way to my throat and cups me gently. “Was someone like you. Someone innocent.”
“I’m not innocent.” I break away from his grasp. He doesn’t need to know I’m into the rough shit, just not with men like Ray. Not with men I don’t trust. And especially not in my ass. That’s a no-fly zone. I drop down and begin mouthing my way down his chest, over his stomach, and then pull his unbuckled belt through the loops of his jeans. It lands with a clankon the floor.
“You look it. Pure. Soft skin and eyes.” He grabs my cock through my jeans and squeezes. “Hard in all the right places.”
I grind my ass over his hardness, applying just enough pressure to drive him wild. His fingers dig into my skin, dragging with just enough force to leave bruises. He juts upward, pushing me off of him and onto my back. He rises to his feet and shoves his jeans and tighty-whities down to his knees in one fell swoop. His massive cock flings forward, too long and impossibly thick.
My jaw clenches, but I’m ready for the challenge.
He strokes himself as he approaches. “I want to see that ass.”
I know better. I really do. I’m apprehensive, even as I obey, playing the role of the good boy who does as he’s told. I roll onto my hands and knees, pull my jeans and underwear down enough to expose my ass. My bare skin is clipped by a whiff of cold air. It is then replaced with the warmth of a foreign object as it nears.
Ptuh.
I look over my shoulder to see him slicking his cock in his own spit. I force a smile, praying that a playful tone will get me out of this situation without needing to resort to violence. “Sorry, but my ass is a no-no square.”
He drops a hand to massage the curve of my ass, but quickly moves inwards, pulling open my crack toexpose my hole. He chokes on something—excitement, arousal, maybe something more sinister.
Guess I’m going to have to be more forceful. I reach for my jeans to pull them back up, but I’m stopped. He grabs me by the wrist and twists my arm sideways. Shoves me forward so that I collapse onto my stomach. The mattress stamps down as he climbs on top of me, his monstrous cock sliding between my bare ass. He grabs me by the hips as he begins to gyrate above me, mimicking forceful thrusts as a preview for what’s to come. He lowers his head to whisper in my ear, “If you scream, it’ll be the last scream you ever scream.”
This sorry sonofabitch has no fucking clue.
I’m not the innocent boy he thinks I am.
I throw my head back, landing with a crack against his face. Swear there’s acrunch, his nose breaking in half. I jump to my feet as he recoils backward, cupping a hand over his face. I whip a handgun from an ankle holster strapped underneath my jeans and aim it squarely at him.
“Sorry, I’m saving myself for marriage,” I say with a smirk, knowing I’m in control.
He stumbles backward, slowly lifting his hands in the air. Surrendering. Fucking pussy. The center of his face is bludgeoned, painted in dark blood that pools outwards.
My finger dances on the trigger. I think about pulling it because once you take a life, thenext one doesn’t seem so hard to take. Days would go by before someone found him here. Found him like this. Found him in a blood-soaked pool of his own perversions, but he’d be the victim to the world. Not the asshole who died trying to take what wasn’t his.
“Please…” he begs, playing the part of an innocent and scared man. “I have a family.”
The trigger’s slicked now, in sweat. It’d be so easy to accidentally pull it. He’s lucky that I can’t afford a run-in with the police. A gunshot would no doubt have this rest stop swarmed with patrolmen. There wouldn’t be enough time to slip away, and the risk is too high that someone would spot me.
“Turn the fuck around.”
He does as told, stumbling over his jeans pooled at his ankles as he turns in a slow circle. His ass is a saggy mess, as dark as forest brush and wrinkled. I swipe my shirt off the ground and toss it over one shoulder.
“Now, you’re going to stay right fucking here for sixty seconds. If you so much as move a muscle, I’ll pull this fucking trigger and paint your brains all over this place. Do you understand me?”
“Y… Yes.”
“Good boy,” I say as I back up slowly, disappearing behind the black curtains. On my way out of the truck cab, I grab his wallet.
After pocketing all his cash, which wasn’t much, I tossed the wallet out the window of my speeding car. Could have landed on the road or the wind could have carried it into the forest. Either way, it’s a decision I now regret.
