Hustler at the Capitol
By: Kenneth Kirk
(© 2022 by the author)

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

kkirk@tickiestories.us

Chapter 8

I picked Mike up at the Capitol Arms a few minutes after 9 o’clock on Saturday morning.  He had his jacket on and had packed all his belongings in a large Army duffel bag and a smaller bag.  He let me snap a souvenir photo and then we loaded into my car for our journey across the mountains into Utah.

Without a backward glance, Mike grinned widely, slapped me on the knee, and practically shouted, “Let’s get the hell out of town, brother!”

In only a few minutes we were up onto the I-25 freeway the couple of miles that took us to US 6 freeway toward Golden, I-70, and points west.  Half an hour later, we exited to a McDonald’s where we ordered 2 coffees and 2 sausage and egg McMuffins to go.

Mike was more familiar with the Rocky Mountains than I, but we were both stunned by the majestic beauty that surrounded us everywhere we looked.  We passed the quaint Old West towns of Idaho Springs and Georgetown as we climbed ever higher on our way to the Eisenhower Tunnel that sliced through the mountain hundreds of feet below the Continental Divide.  The day was spectacular and we were both effervescent just to be out of the congestion and poor air of the city and into the clear thin air of the Rockies.

We reached Vail about 11:00 and decided to pull off the highway to see “how the other half lives.”  We managed to find a place to dump the car and spent about an hour walking around downtown.  Vail wasn’t really quaint as much as it was very modern in a Swiss Alps kind of way.  The roofs were severely peaked and most of the houses were A-frames with lots of windows aimed at the best views of the surrounding peaks.  It was beautiful in a way, but also troubled me a bit with its aura of fakeness.

As we strolled the main street, I realized several men were noticing us.  Some were young and handsome; some were older and handsome; some were not so handsome.  But we seemed to catch their attention and, once they saw us, most had a tough time turning away, in spite of the presence of girlfriends, wives, and even kids.  Several of the men, such as this gentleman who almost walked into us as he exited a boutique hotel, were certainly worth noticing back.

We found a gelato store and discovered neither of us had ever tasted the high-falutin’ treat.  So, we went inside planning to get a couple of dishes for a thorough taste-test.  A glance at the prices on the menu board convinced us we could easily share a scoop.  We sat outside on a park bench in front of the store to try out the Italian concoction.  Mike found it a wonderful treat while I found it a little too dense and strong for my personal tastes.  I noticed a few people on the street who seemed offended by two dudes sharing the same spoon.  I also noticed a couple of guys who seemed very interested in us, even drawn to us, because of our sharing or maybe it was our gorgeousness.

Seeing an older man staring much too long at us, Mike put his hand on my knee, leaned close, and whispered into my ear, “Maybe I should have chosen Vail to ply my trade.”

I laughed.  Watching the man out of the corner of my eye, I put my hand atop Mike’s and whispered back, “You could have made a fortune with all these horny rich dudes.”

As we laughed, we pulled our hands back to attend to the last couple of bites of gelato.  I insisted Mike finish it since he clearly enjoyed it more than I did.  We walked back to the car and headed on to the west.

An hour later we came to the town of Glenwood Springs, which sprawled along both sides of the highway, the railroad, and the Colorado River, which all ran parallel through the canyon.  Most of the town was to the south but on the north side was a beautiful Victorian-era hotel overlooking a large pool where a couple of hundred people were soaking and moving about.

“Oh, yes,” Mike said when he saw that, “this is the springs, a public bath house, I guess.  They are naturally heated by geothermal energy.”

“Wow,” I said and quickly moved onto the exit ramp.  “We have to eat lunch somewhere,” I explained to his quizzical look.  We drove past the pool and the elegant Glenwood Springs Hotel, whose sign indicated its founding in the 1890’s, crossed over the freeway/railroad/river and entered the main downtown area.  Soon we found a bar and grill near an open parking place.  Inside we found some authentic western history in the original bar, which ran along one wall while the other walls were covered with the heads of deer, moose, elk, bear, wolves, and probably more.  The place also served big, tasty cheeseburgers and fries at an almost reasonable price.

Looking at Mike as he scarfed down the burger, I saw a much more relaxed, innocent young man than I’d seen before.  For the first time since I’d known him, he seemed excited about life. 

“You’re feeling good about going home, aren’t you?” I asked.

He finished the bite he was working on, nodding as he chewed.  “Yes, I am.  I’m looking forward to seeing everyone, paying my debt to my brother, and beginning to build a future.”

“I’m really glad.  Sorry Denver wasn’t better for you.”

“To tell you the truth, only one good thing came out of 3 months in Denver, and that’s meeting you, Art.  You’ve really become a good friend.”

I gave an appreciative nod as I chewed my burger.  Before I was prepared to respond, Mike continued talking.

“Actually, I guess I have to say Denver also gave me an opportunity to replenish my funds even if I didn’t like the work very much.”

“Well, it’s good to find the benefits from all that and not just focus on having to do a job you didn’t like.”

He held up his soda grinning.  “That job wasn’t always awful.  I mean, I am a guy and I like to shoot my wad as well as anyone.”

I chuckled.  “I always wondered a little bit about that.”

“Plus, if I’d been washing dishes in the back of some Mexican restaurant, I would have never met you!”

I held up my soda, tipping it toward him in a silent toast.  “There’s that, too.”

He clicked his glass against mine.  “Nah, I have to accept that Denver was what it was and now I’m going forward.  I leave all the yuck behind and am going home with a good bit of cash and a great friend.” 

*********

Shortly after leaving Glenwood, we drove gradually downhill into a drier near-desert zone near Grand Junction and on into the edge of Utah.  The beauty of this country was quite different from the high mountains.  It reminded us of all the Western movies and TV shows we’d ever seen and we imagined bands of Indians or badmen coming at us from the hills.  Mike entertained me for miles with a tale he wove about the two of us riding across this country in 1870.  The plot featured a bunch of adventures with bears, a herd of buffalo, some rustlers, and of course a beautiful woman who took a shine to the gallant knights on horseback.

“Since the beautiful Clementine desired to get fucked by the knights on horseback, she soon lost interest in the clueless Art and pulled the studly Mike into a cave for some very nasty nookie!”

I laughed for a while at that.  When I finally calmed down, I said, “What about the other gallant knight?”

“Oh,” he said thoughtfully.  “Well, after her studly knight, the dashing Mike, had satisfied her needs several times, she agreed to call her brother, uhm, Brucie, for the gallant Art.”

As I giggled, he continued the tale in which the randy Art and the hot Brucie were repeatedly thwarted in their efforts to get some alone time in which to get better acquainted.  We’d been in Utah for half an hour when the tale finally concluded with a double shotgun wedding arranged quickly by Clementine and Brucie’s angry father, Sheriff Blackheart McGee.

I applauded Mike the best I could while driving 80 mph and thanked him for making the trip so easy.  “You really ought to consider writing for TV or something.  You’ve got an incredible imagination.”

He laughed.  “One of my hidden talents, I guess.”

Mike drove the last hour of the day, which allowed me to concentrate more on the vast, open, and arid country we traversed as we hurtled westward on I-70.  Several times in the distance I could make out rocky hills, sections of cliffs, cuts in the land resembling small canyons, and other exotic topographical features I’d not seen before.

“You know, man,” I said at one point, “this looks like another planet.”

He smirked, “It reminds me of the time we crash landed on the planet Temorpheus.”

“Yeah?  I’m having trouble remembering.  Why don’t you refresh my memory?”

Mike launched into a tale concerning a spiraling out-of-control spaceship that crashed into the side of a mountain on the desert planet, killing 221 of 223 people onboard, leaving only Captain Mike and First Officer Art alive.  After ascertaining that no one else survived, they donned their spacesuits, tried the escape pod but found it too battered by the crash to function, and finally began climbing down the side of the cliff.  After a while, they fell into the clutches of Temorphean rangers, who hauled them into a cave that went on for miles ever deeper into the mountain.  Once inside, they passed through an airlock into a small vestibule that opened into an underground city teeming with the nasty bastards.   

“Now,” Mike entoned, “you must remember that Temorpheans are noted among the galaxies for being quite ugly and quite horny.”

 

I couldn’t resist a gale of laughter as I figured where this story was headed.  “No way” I baited him.

“Oh, yes.  Way.” He smirked and proceeded to describe how the two Earthlings were treated by the evil Temorpheans.  “Once inside the vestibule, the Temorphean rangers stripped off their own spacesuits, revealing appallingly ugly faces atop 8-foot-tall bodies that were very thin and covered with gray skin almost as rough as scales.  You couldn’t help but notice that each one had a soft cock hanging for about a foot below their groins and as thick as Mike’s wrist.  They appeared to have only one testicle, but it was about the size of a tennis ball.”  He shuddered and chuckled.

“The earthlings were then stripped, which prompted much laughter amongst the 4 Temorphean rangers as they pointed to the pale skin and the tiny cocks on these creatures.  The Earthmen were forced into a pool of yellow liquid that bubbled but was actually cold.  Temorpheans held them down for a few seconds, then allowed them to exit the pool while they gasped for breath.  The rangers blew hot breath on the men, which dried their bodies immediately.  Then they were led through a door and found themselves on a bustling city street where hundreds of Temorpheans trudged along, all naked, all hideous.  The passersby noticed the little pink creatures immediately, stopping to stare, occasionally poking or rubbing their skin, pointing at their cocks and laughing, but also admiring the beauty of their faces.”  Mike mimicked someone gazing raptly at an imaginary face, softly stroking its cheek. 

“The 4 Temorpheans and the 2 Earthlings walked a couple of miles through a busy marketplace and finally into a sort of castle with a very high ceiling.  At one side, a Temorphean sat on an elaborate throne covered in a blue gemstone, his gargantuan cock hanging between his legs where it dangled halfway to the floor.  Each ranger walked up several steps and knelt before the king, bowing and kissing the royal cock until the king touched the back of their heads and they rose.  When they had greeted the king, the lead ranger began speaking in the low, gravelly voice typical of Temorpheans, gesturing from time to time toward the pink captives.  Eventually, the king bellowed out one word that sounded like, ‘Jacorphene!’”

“From behind them a high-pitched voice shouted out, ‘Krack!’”

“The king, startled, looked at the offending speaker, gesturing for the speaker to approach.  When finally the men could see, they beheld a beautiful gray female figure – no cock between these legs – with long purple hair.  She, too, was naked except for a wide choker of the same blue stone as the king’s throne.  She smiled at the captives, then ascended to the king’s throne where she knelt and kissed his cock.  He touched her hair and lifted her chin so that she could come up for air.”

“The gray woman and the king had a quiet but spirited conversation for several minutes with occasional gestures and glances toward the captives.  At last, she smiled and rose before the king.  He waved her aside and she stepped carefully down the steps, walking over to stare at the captives.  She was less than 7 feet tall, slender, with three large teats (I giggled) and a large gash surrounded by more purple hair.  She smiled at the captives as the king shouted instructions to the rangers.  She turned and walked away into the area behind them.”

“After a few minutes, the captives were led away to a smaller room like a bath, where they were met by 4 Temorphean females who were as ugly as the rangers.  Each one knelt before the Earthmen and kissed their cocks, stifling giggles as they touched the little pink danglers.  Then, the beautiful Mike and the beautiful Art were led into a warm bath where two of the women scrubbed each man.  After the bath, they were dried with rough towels as big as bedsheets, then seated at a tall table in chairs so high their feet dangled like children’s.  They were fed a scrumptious meal of indefinable delicacies that tasted unlike anything either had ever tasted.”

“They were taken to a nearby room and placed upon a bed that was bigger than a king-sized bed with a very firm feel to it.  A ranger lay across the one door leading from the room.  They slept.”

Out the window, I noticed a highway sign reading “Green River 10”.

Mike saw it, too.  “Not far now.”

“When they awoke,” my lovely narrator continued, “they were fed again, then taken a distance through the castle to another room.  One of the women went inside for a few minutes while the men and the Temorphean rangers waited in the hallway.  She returned, held open the door, and the rangers led the men inside.  There, on an even bigger bed, lay the princess, naked with her legs spread widely.”

“Oh, shit,” I said.

Ignoring me, Mike said, “The Earthmen glanced at each other.  Captain Mike smiled broadly and whispered, ‘Hot damn.’  First Officer Art looked back, a bit stunned, and whispered, ‘Oh, shit.’”

I guffawed at his use of my words that way.

Ignoring me, Mike said, “The princess looked at them and said in her rather high, grating voice, ‘Quapherene,’ and then patted her chest above the three teats.  She pointed at the sexy First Officer and patted her chest again.  Art patted his chest and said, ‘Art.’  She repeated the name and Art smiled.  Then she looked at the studly Captain and patted her chest.  He said, ‘Mike,’ which the princess repeated accurately.  Mike smiled.  She looked back at Art and shouted. ‘Orfdu specadda schnimp.’”

“Those Temorpheans have such a difficult language,” I chuckled.

“Indeed,” Mike said before going on with the story.  “One of the rangers prodded Art in the back until he moved toward the bed.  When he halted a few feet away, the ranger prodded him again.  Art stepped up to the edge of the bed and the ranger prodded him again, making it obvious he was to get on the bed.  Quapherene sat up, took his hand, and pulled him down so his face was in her crotch.”

“At which point,” I interrupted, “Art barfed all over her smelly twat.”

Mike couldn’t help laughing at that,

When we were settled, a sign indicating the exit to Green River in 2 miles came by on the shoulder of the highway.

Still laughing, Mike said, “The princess held his head down until he began gagging.  She looked puzzled and pulled him up by the hair.  ‘Volkishishta?’ she asked him.  Of course, he didn’t know what she meant.  Indicating his very flaccid pink penis, she laughed.  ‘Volkishista!’ she shouted hysterically.  All the rangers and maids laughed, too, almost falling down from the idea the pink creature was a volkishista.”

I was gasping for breath as I imagined the look on all the Temorpheans’ ugly faces as they realized the virile First Officer was a volkishista.

“Pushing the unfortunate volkishista Art aside, the princess looked at the luscious Mike, whose cock was standing nearly at full attention.  ‘Volkishista?’ she asked him.  Brilliantly, the Captain shook his head while scrunching his face and grabbing his now-hard cock.  He waved it fiercely at the princess, who smiled and said happily, ‘Volkandra yorka!’  As the ranger pulled Art off the bed and out of the way, Mike swaggered up, voluntarily climbed up onto the high bed and dove face-first into the royal snatch.”

I howled as Mike turned onto the exit ramp.

“The randy Captain Mike not only kissed the princess’ gash, he gave it a delicious tonguing such as Quapherene had never experienced or even imagined.  For the next hour, Quapherene screamed in pleasure as the manly Mike ate out the snatch and then entered it with his turgid appendage.  It was so much more rigid than a Temorphean penis that the princess practically swooned in pleasure.  As soon as that hard cock slipped into the wide gash, the oddest thing happened.  As if a motor had turned on, the walls shrank in around it until it was a perfect fit for the earthly prong.  He didn’t even have to move as the twat squeezed him like the finest milking machine in all of England.”

I giggled as we passed through a rather sun-bleached burg with widely spaced structures that had largely seen much better days.  There was a decent-looking restaurant with the unimaginative name Green River Café and a prosperous-looking Mormon church, but not much else of note.  We found a turnoff marked with a sign indicating “Green River State Park” to the south.

As we turned onto the road to the park, Mike wrapped up the story.  “The Captain was such a stud the lovely Quapherene became addicted to him.  She made it plain she expected to be fucked 3 times per day.  Eventually the old king died and Quapherene became the queen.  She and Mike had 15 beautiful children and, of course, their oldest named Volkandra Yorka Shef became the next king.”

As we drove along the Green River among some scrubby trees, I asked, “What did the new king’s name mean?”

“Oh,” Mike said nonchalantly, “it meant Beautiful Straight Stud the Second.”

I cracked up as we turned into the state park.

After we had paid our fee to a rather dykish-looking park ranger named Mildred, we drove slowly around the camping area to select our site, ultimately settling on a rather flat plot about 20 feet up a slight rise from the river near the end of the narrow road.  We parked and got out of the car.

As we were putting up our little 2-man pup tent, I asked, “Oh, Mike, what happened to the beautiful volkishista First Officer?”

“Oh, he lived happily ever after.  He was given to the Temorphean rangers as a reward for their excellent work and was fucked continuously by their gargantuan cocks.”

I shrieked in laughter.

To be continued...

Posted: 03/04/2022