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The man stared back at me through those squinty, crows-footed eyes for a moment, studying me up and down. “No. No, I think I’m gonna need to take something a little more… personal.”

I still didn’t get what the guy was insinuating. “Do you want my wallet? I could give you one of my credit cards?” I was desperate. At this point, I’d offer anything.

“How old are you, son?” he blurted out.

“I’m 22… what does that have to do with anything?”

“22…” he repeated. “Shit, you’re half my age.” He seemed to be speaking only to himself. I looked around; no other cars were on the road. Why would they be? I was in the middle of nowhere at 2am. “Well, I can think of something you could give me that might change my mind about calling the cops,” he said finally.

“Oh, great. Name it.” I was all too eager to appease this guy.

“A blowjob,” he stated bluntly.

I choked on my own spit a bit as I coughed up a shock of a reply. “A… hak… a what?!”

“You heard me, son. If you don’t want me to call the cops, then you’re gonna have to suck my cock. That’s the deal. Take it or leave it.”

He leaned against the trunk of his Buick, his lower torso emblazoned by the headlamps of my Camry shining right at his crotch, and placed his hands on his hips. I started at the sizable bulge in his jeans and felt a knot rise up in my stomach. This guy was serious. I couldn’t believe it. There was no way. No way. But… what choice did I have? It was either suck some redneck’s cock, or lose my license and get hauled off to jail.

“I’ve never done anything like that,” I began, trying to think of some excuse to get out of this.

“That don’t matter none to me,” he responded tersely. “There’s a first time for everything.” With this, his hands reached to the front of his jeans, pinched the clasp of his zipper, and eased open his fly.

“Oh… Oh God,” I exclaimed, turning my head away to not look.

“Ain’t nothing here to be frightened of, son. Besides, you spend a night in a holding cell, and you’ll probably get quite a few such propositions, and I doubt they’ll be as civil about it as I am.”

I gulped back the lump in my throat. The idea of it turned my stomach. I wasn’t gay. I had never even thought about what I’d do if I was ever put in this situation. But what could I do? I really did have no choice. I had to just suck it up, figuratively and literally.

I walked to the man and stopped a few feet from him. I stared down at his open fly. My breathing had hastened. He gestured with a point of his fingers and a jutting of his hips. I closed my eyes, silently told myself I could do this, and then dropped to my knees in front of him.

I reached forward and placed my hands on his thighs. His legs were thick and hard, gnarled with the knobby muscles of a working man. I massaged his quadriceps, and to my surprise, touching his thighs was actually beginning to put me more at ease. I had had my dick