As we set out on the turnpike things moved slowly but steadily in the right direction. The mattress was not large and we were boxed in by big black amplifiers. Brian had his back to me with a blanket hitched loosely up to his thighs . His ass was spooned against my groin as I was laying on my side, so we were positioned to my advantage. I knew I had to first get him hot. It took me the first 50 miles of the turnpike to work up the nerve. I began by slowly moving my hand down his side and on to the buckle of his jeans. For that first hour he didn't move and I sensed he knew what was happening or what was about to happen but he pretended to be fast asleep even to faking a light snore(clever boy). Next I inched my fingers down to the area where his cock should have been under his Levi's. At first it was difficult to tell if my hand had found its mark.
I slowly moved the tip of my right index finger in tight circles, trying to discern the shape and mass of his cock all the while taking great pains to pretend I, too, was fast asleep. After about 15 minutes of this nonsense I suddenly realized I was way off target! Brian had in the meantime sprouted a stiff, pressed erection inside his tight pants but it was twisted down and pushed between his legs. I had been fondling his pubic bone! The sensation of my rubbing and kneading his ghost prick did give Brian a raging hard-on but the pressure of his straining, stiffening cock imprisoned in his tight jeans and facing the wrong way to receive pleasure was probably starting to get painful. He twisted his hips almost imperceptibly to rearrange his cock for my eager hand. Twist, another twist...and then it slipped its nest and I could feel its weight pop out from the crunched prison of his twisted briefs between his legs and up against my busy palm. Bulls eye! I commenced massaging his levi-encased organ with my palm and fingers, although the engorged reward I sought was still straining beneath the taut denim of his jeans. So close and yet ..... Having finally found my treasure I began to slowly palpate the underside of his stiff rod with my fingers, gradually working his erection so that it pointed upwards towards his naval, allowing me to work on the sensitive ridge of its underside, which I could just discern with the tips of my fingers. It felt like a red hot wire through the coarse texture of his exquisitely frustrating denim pouch. He straightened his legs a bit to take better advantage of the slow, firm strokes of my expert fingertips. I could have gone on stroking his cock in this manner forever and it seemed to go on just that long. And through it all the poor frightened virgin feigned a deep sleep. I wasn't fooled but he probably needed the cover of fake slumber to let himself go on with my seduction. It was a case of "Boy, was I drunk last night! I don't remember a thing!" After an hour or so of stroking his still hidden cock, it became apparent that even in a deep sleep, he wanted more. But what? In a crowded van? I reached down with my other hand and raised the blanket that was draping our lower torsos up over our chests. Suddenly Brian coughed a bit as though he was wakening and he shifted his weight slightly to my advantage. My hand froze in position until it was apparent he had again feigned dosing back off into a phony sleep. Only then did I resume my task. Having slowly and successfully covered us up with the blanket, I moved my other hand back down to his crotch and slowly tugged at his zipper taking a good 5 minutes to open his fly and slip my hand in. He was starting to get into it. It was an effort for him to not let go and start grinding his pelvis in an admittance of the seduction now so plainly in progress but he somehow managed to maintain his stillness by tensing his leg muscles. Keeping up this ridiculous charade of sleep must have been really tiring him out but his cock was still stone hard and his quickening pulse and breathing showed me that he wanted the job finished. I got bolder. I used my other hand to release my by-now-engorged wand from my damp trousers.( I had started pre-cumming in buckets!) I deftly pulled out my larger-than-usual fuck-piece and cradled its full glorious length up against the place where his ass cleft would have been presenting itself for penetration if it weren't still packed inside those damnable pants. With as great a sense of purpose as I have felt before or since I began to slowly gyrate my hips, grinding my cock up against his tensing ass. This touched a nerve. He began to grind his ass against my poor old prick. I reached in through his fly and into the pleat of his underpants to get my fist finally around his thick throbbing pig iron. My other hand, while stroking the space over his asscleft, found a tiny rip in the middle seam of his old, worn-out jeans. Bingo!. Just imagine my joy. My brow was hot with excitement. Using my fingers I easily worked the rip open to a proper sized slit with one hand as I gently but quickly used my other hand and pulled his hot rigid cock out of his jockey shorts and through his fly, allowing me the full unencumbered use of his tool to stroke and rub." It's mine now", I thought to myself. " and you won't get it back till I'm finished with it!" I held on to his shoot tool with a firm grip and with steady, even strokes built him up to almost spurting his load. I could sense when he got too close. His cock would get even harder and the blood pulsing through it would momentarily seem to stop. Every time I felt him come close to the edge I'd stop and squeeze him hard till the shock of pain to his involuntary nervous system would choke off his impending orgasm. "
You've frustrated me in my conquest for years", I thought. "Tonight is payback."