Trashed by the Hillbillies

Inject the country into my veins.

My truck broke down in rural Appalachia, but lucky for me, I was rescued. Locals took me back to a “holler” and fed me dinner. I couldn’t help peeking at their beefy, sweaty bodies. Compared to an NYC boy like me, we’re practically different species.

It’s dangerous being openly gay here. I tried to hide it, but things got weird after I stumbled across their illegal moonshine operation. In the back of a burned-out school bus in the woods, they started teaching me.

Gay boys don’t need big-city education or fancy clothes…we’re built for one simple, primal purpose. Everything else is a distraction.

Moonshine and huntin’. Trucks and barbeque and mud wrestling. The country life is seeping into my mind…slowing it down. There’s somethin’ in the water…somethin’ in the cum.

Got dang…somethin’s happenin’ to mah.

I love huntin’. I love fishin’.

And suckin’…I need to keep suckin’.