@Jonnyxx 9-A, C, B, D

Replies to Game questions (Bryan’s):
1-Body type: C, A, B
2-Feet: A, Waders, Barefoot, B, C
3-Vehicle: A, B, D, C
4-Stalled: B, A, C
5-Ground: B, C, A
6-Boots: B, A
7-I’ll break this one down below. My feet are huge (14EEEE) and most athletic shoes don’t fit me. But these below do fit and they’re great for driving and pumping pedals:
7A-Nike Air Jordans, High Tops
7B-Nike Air Force One, High Tops, White
7C-Nike Air Force One, High Tops, Black
7D-Nike Slides, No Socks, White
7E-Flip Flops and Crocs (soon taken off)
7F-Barefoot
8-Sandals: C, A, B, D

@Blackadder261 I should have considered that more extensively, and great point. It’s a bit different where I am, but I’m alone on my adventures, as well.

@redredd22 All great points. I tend to forget that there are countless people around my region who drive off-road ready vehicles and are always willing to help winch others out. It’s like an unofficial sport around these parts!

Admittedly, I’m as gay as a guy can get and, while I’m personally not transgender or into cross dressing myself, I would respond to someone who is and has gotten stuck with great enthusiasm, kindness and respect.

That said, those who might be just starting out or feeling anxious or nervous about venturing out to get stuck alone wearing an exciting new outfit or maybe sporting a hot new style, absolutely go for it! But please, I would recommend having it prearranged so that a trusted friend is there at the site to check on you after you’ve had a certain amount of time for getting stuck and spinning your tires in high-heeled, pedal pumping ecstasy. Then you can continue on spinning as you were, or at least you’ll have someone there to help you get out of the mud when you’re finished.

The idea is not to be totally alone and stuck in the mud. Just like when meeting someone new on a first date, someone always should know where you’re planning to go, and whom—if anyone—you’re planning to meet. Have someone on their way to meet you, even if it ends up being that the person isn’t needed and you get out of the muddy situation without any help. Be safe out there: we all need to stay safe and stuck together in this!

@rauhbein1 For me personally it would go like this:
A-RWD autos and trucks
B-4x4 SUVs, trucks, Hummers
C-Quads, motorcycles, dirt bikes, etc.
D-Tractors, heavy equipment, tractor trailers

@Jonnyxx My answer to #2 is A, all the way. I wear boots every day and even wear my boots to bed, so that’s an easy one to answer. I don’t even own regular shoes.

@redredd22 Yeah! That would liven things up! He could then help me get unstuck while I do everything I can to get more stuck!

How interesting! If it were me in this situation, and I were driving alone on a secluded country road in my region of the USA, I’d pull right over or alongside to ask if he was okay or needed help. Then I’d use my own intuition to see if it felt right or if something felt off.

Not to sound like “Father Goose” to everyone, but I’d make sure I had a clear escape route in case things turned bad. We can never be too careful out there, especially these days.

If all seemed good, I’d pretend to be giving it all I had as I “pushed” from behind. Hopefully I’d be able to really get really into it and yelling at him to give it more gas would get me off. I’m always dressed for situations like this so my boots and jeans are already on, ready to jump into it.

If I manage to get him stuck worse, which I would hope I do, I’ll happily winch him out or pull him out with my truck. And then I’ll drive right into the ruts he left behind and have a great time.

You are the absolute master at this! What awesome work! I’ve loved each of your pieces, and please keep posting!.

What a great story! Thank you for sharing this. I would love to read more from you!

@gabe Thank you so much for your kind words! It was definitely therapeutic to write it all out. I hope it helps someone else along the way, someday. If I can make it through to where I am today, anyone can do it! Again, thank you, and keep in touch!

Thank you!

The Shep Years: Epilogue

I am gaining on Kobe and Kallie, who are running ahead of me on the beach. I’m aware it is nearly sunset but I’m an asshole about applying and reapplying sunscreen. Kobe—thankfully—gives up and stops running. He turns to look up at me.

“Nooo,” he protests as he surrenders to me and my bottle of sunscreen. “Stinky!” he says, twisting his face in disgust.

“And so is a sunburn, believe me,” I say, grinning as I squeeze a little into my hand and start applying it to his shoulders. Kallie, who’s soon to get the same treatment, has circled back and seizes that moment to jump on me from behind, wrapping her arms around my neck. We tumble over into the sand just as a rogue wave breaks over us. I silently freak out because I’ve lost sight of Kobe, but then I hear Kallie yelling to him and laughing.

“Kobe, run to Daddy! Run! I got the bottle!” Kallie cheers her brother on, holding up the bottle of sunscreen for Kobe to see. “Run, Kobe! Run! I got Papa! Run!”

I push myself up, wipe the saltwater from my eyes and spot my two-and-a-half year old tear-assing across the sand towards my husband, Mark. Kobe is laughing and yelling out maniacally as he runs to Mark, who hears the commotion and looks up from his book, obviously confused. I exhale seeing that Kobe is fine, now only a few feet from Mark. I glance sideways at Kallie, who doesn’t know I have seen her burying the bottle of sunscreen in the sand. Finished, she darts off to join her brother and my husband. Once alone, I unearth the sunscreen, brush off the sand and slip it inside our backpack of snacks, drinks and countless beach toys.

I join Mark and the kids and notice Kobe looks about ready to tip over from exhaustion. I hand Mark the backpack, who slings it over one shoulder. I lift Kobe up to carry him home. Mark adjusts his glasses, inches closer towards me, readjusts the shoulder strap of the backpack, inches closer still, looks around to make sure both kids are either asleep or not paying attention to what he’s about to do, and squeezes and rubs my ass through the sheer fabric of my longboard shorts.

“I love you,” Mark whispers. I whisper the words back, kiss the tip of my index finger and touch it to Mark’s lips. Kobe’s head drops onto my shoulder.

“My Papa,” Kobe says softly, squeezing my neck as he drifts off to sleep..

Mark takes Kallie’s hand and we leave the beach. Somewhere on our walk along the town boardwalk that leads to our street, I think about how it has been—exactly to the day—fifteen years since I last saw Shep. That means it’s been something like sixteen and a half years since the last time he and I got stuck together and made love in our own special way, spinning tires in the truck and barebacking in the mud. And today also means that it has been fifteen years since Shep lost his battle with an inoperable brain tumor and End Stage Frontal Variant Dementia (Y/O-Type). That day, I was holding Shep as he slipped away and I kissed him goodbye.

Being a widower did not agree with me and the next years were very bad ones I spent alone, being an addict, not talking to a soul, hoping and praying it wouldn’t be long before my shattered heart gave out and I could be with Shep again. If I wasn’t busy working, I was drinking, shooting up, snorting or crying, often all at once.

I had no way of knowing that the fates were already hard at work, and someone very special was about to enter my life in the most spectacular fashion possible for a guy like me, anyway: Mark had gotten stuck in the mud behind my place of work and had come inside looking for assistance. I immediately felt things I hadn’t felt in years, and had quickly come to his “rescue” in Shep’s old GMC.

These days I fuck around in the mud alone. It’s just not Mark’s thing, but he tries so hard. Like the time Mark bought me what he calls my “monster truck” on our 10-year wedding anniversary, to commemorate the day we first met. Sadly, Shep’s truck is long gone now, but I hold treasured memories of it, as well as some actual, physical pieces that dropped off while it was garaged at my house. (My favorite souvenir, however, is the steering wheel, which I ripped off and kept, complete with the center cap emblem that Shep would caress and say loving things to when the fucking thing wouldn’t run right.)

But it’s all good now. Actually, for me, it’s way better than good: it’s fucking perfect. Mark put all the broken pieces of me back together and showed me that my life didn’t end when Shep’s did. Mark introduced a different kind of love, and it’s still an exciting, magical new world, even today.

Soon the babies came, first Kallie, then Kobe. After we had gotten back home from the beach that night, Mark got Kallie ready for bed while I gave Kobe a quick bath and put him to bed. I turned on his PAW Patrol nightlight and kissed his forehead goodnight. I turned to see Mark standing in Kobe’s bedroom doorway, waiting for me.

“Just so you know, we’re not done here,” he said.

I froze. I had never heard Mark use Shep’s catchphrase for telling me he was still horny and we should have more sex. I remained silent but lifted one eyebrow, my way of asking him to elaborate on what he was saying.

“Kids, you know what I mean,” said Mark. “We need more. You want more and so do I. There are a lot more waiting for us, Bryan. And we’re great at this.”

“We”re great together,” I said, kissing him long and deeply. “I love you.” Then I took his hand and led him to our bed.

(Dedicated to STH: I hated your truck. But I love you so much.)

@Xavier-B I appreciate you! Thanks so much for your encouragement. More to follow and I look forward to your next releases, too!

@spinem4u I appreciate your feedback and am so glad it rang true for you in some way. Those were the days, that’s for sure! Gratefully-Bryan

The Shep Years: 4

The engine had been turned off. The truck was still stuck in the mud, now resting at a weird angle, but Shep did not seem to be in any hurry to recover it. I surely didn’t want to move from lying beside him, holding him. With the seat backs both reclined, we could almost comfortably stretch out. Shep kissed me, softly, again and again. The fragrance of his Alfred Sung cologne floated lightly in the air.

The late-morning sun felt good as it warmed the truck and partially dried the mud that had been flung onto the hood, windows, truck bed and mirrors.

“Marry me,” said Shep. “Just say you will.”

“Of course I’ll marry you,” I said, tightening my arms that were still around him. And then we kissed, for a really long time.

“You make me so fuckin’ happy,” he said. “I dunno how you do it, but you just get me.” I looked into his eyes and wiped away a tear that started to form in the corner of his eye.

“God, how I love you,” I said, holding him close. “I have for years, you know.”

“I’ve heard rumors,” he said, smiling, before running his tongue through my mustache and goatee, which he knew damn well drove me insane. “But we’re not done here yet,” he said, in between kisses. I could feel pre-cum starting to flow from my erection and Shep’s dick straining against mine as we made out. I explored his mouth with my tongue.

“ I see. And what would you like me to do?”

“I want you to breed me.” Shep propped himself up on one elbow. “What I want is you, but I want you to take me from behind. In the mud. I want you to seed me in the mud.”

My breath was coming short because hearing him say these words got me beyond excited. I’m pretty sure my mouth was hanging open at that point. Shep, sporting that look in his eyes again, crawled forward, popped open the cab’s backseat door and had a look outside at the state of the truck.

“Wow, it’s really stuck this time,” he said, grabbing his bulge and adjusting his hardness before closing the door. “You okay with sinking your boots? I mean, they’re wicked nice and really high, but it’s really deep mud,” he said, licking his lips. The Maine accent came through again. I smiled.

“Yeah,” I said. “They’re waterproof.”

Shep reached underneath the backseat and slid out a pair of oversized, heavy duty, above-the-knee yellow rubber utility over-boots, with black soles and black clinch straps near the tops, which he pulled on over his black Chippewa boots.

“I have two pairs of boots on and I’m stuck in the mud,” said Shep. “I want you to fuck me bareback with us both wearing our boots, stuck.”

With that, Shep opened the truck door and jumped down, miring halfway up his boots. He made his way to the rear driver’s side of the truck. I could hear his yellow rubber boots flopping noisily as took each step, followed by the hottest sucking sounds each time he yanked one of his sexy-ass man feet out of the mud.

I was getting out of the truck to join him but Shep had other ideas.

“Start the truck and spin ‘em,” he said.

Amazingly, the truck started for me on the fourth round of cranking, pumping and swearing. I shifted into “D” and lowered my boot onto the pedal. I left the door open so I could lean out and watch Shep, who moved right up to the spinning tire and pressed his boot against it, alternating his right with his left, holding his feet against both the sidewall and tread, caking up his rubber boots as the tire kicked up mud and spun it onto Shep’s feet and legs.

Shep seemed almost delirious when he began moaning and yelling. “My truck is stuck in the fuckin’ mud and I got two pairs of boots on! I’m spinning my tires on my boots! It’s making my boots hot, all this friction and rubbing! Spin faster! Burn up my feet in these fuckin’ boots! Faster! You’re stuck in the mud! Deeper! Plunge that boot down, Bryan! Floor it! Now come over here and fuck me, ‘cause I got so stuck deep in the mud my sweaty feet are stuck too. My fuckin’ boots got stuck in the mud like my truck!”

I got out of the truck as Shep moved behind it, resting his arms over the lift gate. I had spun the rear tires down so deep that only the very tops of the rims and tires showed above the mud. He had worked his feet in so deep that he was sunk almost to the black straps at the tops of his yellow boots. Then Shep reached around and lowered his jeans, giving me full access to his perfect round butt.

I unbuttoned my jeans and let my cock spring free, which I gently pressed against Shep’s waiting hole. I applied lube from the bottle of Probe I had in my pocket and, once I was sure he was ready, I held him in my arms and kissed and sucked his neck as I slid my penis into his soft warmth. “I love you so much,” I whispered. Shep responded by leaning back, sliding as far as he could onto my dick. We stayed like that for a few moments, while I kept kissing and nuzzling him. “Oh, now, please,” whispered Shep.

I spread my feet apart and got my pac boots solid in the mud. Shep resumed holding onto the truck gate and I started thrusting my boots hard in the mud while I made love to Shep. I lasted longer than I thought I would, and I milked Shep to his first cum as thick ropes of his semen shot from him onto the truck and into the mud. It felt like Shep’s entire body was writhing around my dick as I held onto his waist and felt my own climax rising up.

Shep was still cumming and pleading with me to nut inside him when I just couldn’t hold back any more. I felt my cum pulse inside him.

We stood there for a few minutes, catching our breath. My arms were back around him and I was still inside him.

“Oh, by the way,” he said,”we’re not done here yet. But I’m gonna need your help getting out.”

“You mean with the truck?”

“Nah, I got winches for that. I mean with my feet.” He gestured toward the mud we were both standing in and I saw that both of his boots had nearly disappeared below the surface. I felt myself getting rock hard again and I lovingly reentered him, all the way.

“You’re a horny animal,” said Shep.

@Xavier-B what a great work of art! I loved reading every word and look forward to reading your next releases!

@Jonnyxx well done-a very enjoyable time reading. Thank you!