Hitchhiker Gives Sloppy Blowjob

The hot squeezing feeling of Douglas’ sphincter closing around the head of Max’s cock made him shudder and gasp. His shaft slipped in fairly easily and before long he had a rhythm.
*****
Max Field was not a happy bunny. It was pitch black, fucking freezing and it had just started raining really, really hard. Oh, and he was outside in this. With nothing even vaguely waterproof; not even his bag, unfortunately.
There hadn’t been any nice people for forever. What Mom had told him about the north of England being friendlier than the South was clearly a lie; or maybe it just didn’t apply to skinny blond American hitchhikers who were stupid enough not to pack for British weather.
He was really, really cold. His hair would be insane tomorrow.
More cars zoomed past. Even their taillights seemed smug. Max contemplated swearing at them.
A sleek black BMW slowed to a stop in front of him. Max gaped at it like an idiot. If there was a law of hitchhiking, it was that cars like that never stopped for people like him. The window rolled down with a faint purr and a middle-aged man leaned across from the driver seat.
“You want a lift, mate?”
“God, please,” Max blurted. The man smiled and Max could feel his face going red. “But I’m all …” He gestured to his “jumped-into-a-swimming-pool-fully-clothed” appearance. The man shrugged.
“It’s fine. I have a heater.”
“What’s your name?” the man asked Max when Max had settled down in the seat with his sodden carry bag at his feet.
“Max, hi, you?”
“I’m Douglas, pleased to meet you.” They shook hands.
“Seriously,” Max babbled, “thank you so much! It’s completely crazy out there!”
Douglas chuckled. “Yeah, it is fairly awful tonight.” He ran his hand over his short blond hair, ruffling it upwards – Max could see a lot of...