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Joe braked his car and pulled into the freeway rest area. Joe was a forty-year old widower who had delivered his teenage son to grandmothers house for spring break, and now he needed to make a piss stop.
The young hitchhiker at the freeway entrance displayed a sign with the name of a nearby town and a notification that he would work for food. Joe looked at the handsome, fit young man and felt a familiar twinge. He had been happily married until his wife had died last year, but he had always wanted to suck off a young man and feel a cock in his ass. He would never think of coming out of the closet and disgracing his wife or family, so he suppressed the urge and had never succumbed to the temptation. Only his doctor and a discrete mail order pharmacy knew that he had required Viagra to perform for his wife. The only way he could climax was to fantisize that he was sucking or being humped by a guy. Joe stopped and offered the young man, who looked to be about nineteen or twenty, a lift. "What takes you to Porttowm?" Joe inquired, making light conversation. "Well," the passenger replied hesitantly, "that's where my parole officer lives, and I need to report in." He then answered the question that hung in the air. "Four years ago, when I was seventeen, I did something very dumb. Two of my buds and me were cruising in my mom's car. One of the guys needed something from a mini-mart. He came running back out and told me to get moving, fast. I didn't know until the cops stopped us that he had strong-armed and robbed the storekeeper. I was an accessory to the crime and got seven years. I just got out on parole after serving four. If that's a problem for you, just pull over and I'll walk." Joe thought about what a seventeen year old kid must have gone through in prison and hatched a plan. "It so happens," he lied "that I am researching a novel I plan to write, and one of the characters has to serve some time. I will pay you two hundred dollars, and maybe a percentage of the sales if you help me out by letting me interview you about prison life. I live not far from here. We can talk all evening, you can spend the night, and I'll drive you to town in the morning. Joe led the young man into the house, gave him one of his son's warm up suits, and left him to take a bath while Joe fixed them some lunch. While the kid was in the shower Joe spiked his soup with a heavy dose of salt. The kid was so hungry that he didn't notice, or if he did he didn't care. After they had eaten Joe put the guy's clothes into the washing machine and led him to the study, where the interview would take place. Joe led the young man through a series of questions about the day to day details of prison life, never once asking the Forbidden Question. Eventually the kid requested something to drink, as his troat was dry, so Joe put his now clean clothes in the dryer and fixed him a drink. The sweetness of the Coke, combined with a little vodka, masked any taste that might have been added by the Viagra tablet that Joe dissolved in the drink. Joe continued his line of innocuous questions until he saw the kid's pants start to bulge. He then started in on a new line of questions. "Were you ever sexually assaulted? It must have been pretty tough for a good looking kid like you were to fend off all of the horny cons." "Yes I was." the young man answered meekly, his mind slightly fogged by the vodka. "Orally or anally?" was Joe's next question. "Both." "How long did that go on?" Joe inquired. "Until I was tough enough to fight back." "After you got tough, did you ever do it to the new kids?" Joe pried. "Only once. I was so ashamed of myself that I couldn't ever do it again." The young man, though trying to conceal it with his hands, was now sporting a magnificent bulge in his pants. Joe moved closer and asked some more questions. "What keeps a guy from just biting down on his tormenter, instead of taking it in the mouth?" The kid explained that there was usually a jailhouse shiv pressed against his throat. Joe crossed the room to his desk and returned with a dull paring knife that he used as a letter opener. He then knelt down in front of the kid, gave him the knife, and asked for a demonstration. The young man, aided by abstainence, youth, and Viagra, unloaded down Joe's throat almost instantly. Joe swallowed the oyster, licked the dispenser clean, and asked his next question. "What does it feel like to have a dick shoved uo your ass? Does it hurt?" The kid, still under the effect of the miracle drug, was up to another demonstration. Joe only previous experience was a small, well lubricated finger during his yearly prostate exams. This one hurt like hell, and although he screamed in pain as the young stud rode him, when it was over he had the hardest erection he had ever experienced. "There is something that guys in prison who aren't gay do for each other when they are really in need, like you are," the young man said, "would you like me to show you that, too?" He then knelt behind Joe, gently fondled Joe's balls, reached around, and slowly stroked Joe's cock. Joe quickly picked up the rhythm, shot his load in a matter of minutes, and collapsed forward into the puddle. The young man released Joe's cock but retained a gentle grasp on his balls. "There's another thing we did in prison," he told Joe, "usually just to rapists and child molesters, but sometimes to fags ,too." he said as he tightened his grip on Joe's balls and reached for the paring knife. The young man wiped his fingerprints from the scene, donned his clean clothes, and collected his two hundred dollars wages from the wallet of the now nutless Joe before leaving the house. 'Another day, another dollar' he thought as he walked back to the freeway. Comments appriciated
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