Fiction - "A Trucker's Tale

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A Trucker's Tale

Hi! I'm Jake Wascom, and I'm an eighteen wheeler driver. My handle is Cowboy, and I drive the southern 48 states. This is the first time that I've ever felt like writing anything down in my life, but something happened to me last week that changed my life and it makes me want to keep track of things now. If someone else is reading this, it probably means that I'm dead and gone, since this is kind of a diary, and, since I'm not here, come to think of it, why should I give a shit who reads this, anyway?

Like I said, I'm a professional truck driver, and I'm going to take this story up just where it started, about two hundred miles from Abilene, Texas. I had been driving for about four hundred miles, and my shiny Peterbilt was humming. The constant vibration of the road and the Pete's big Cummins had left me tired and horny, aching and irascible, and I was looking forward to stopping in Abilene for a bite and some shut-eye.

The sun had set a couple of hours before, and even my old travelling companion, the CB radio, was quiet. I was content and and happy, and I surely wasn't expecting any surprises that night, because the road was rolling under my dozen and a half big wheels, and I was well ahead of schedule into old Abilene. I had the radio cranked up playing Waylon Jennings, and I had the windows down with my elbow resting out in the cool Texas breeze.

I stopped at Garlit's Truck Plaza to refuel my rig. The service there is good, with decent fuel prices, and I make it a point to stop there whenever I make the Atlanta-Abilene run. (I own my own truck, and I have to be cost-conscious.)

Anyway, I left my truck in the hands of the Mexican fuel jockey and went inside to take a leak. Coming out, I stopped under the truck stop's awning and lit a cigarette. For a couple of minutes I smoked and looked out across the Texas night. I guess I was kind of day-dreaming. After a little while, I heard the twin fuel pumps click off, and I turned back into the building to pay my bill.

If you've seen one truck stop, by the way, you've seen them all. Garlit's was bigger than some, but they're all laid out the same way. The fuel islands for the big rigs are on one side, and the auto fuel islands and restaurant are on the other. The fuel desk at Garlit's looked out over the fuel islands, and I went to it and paid my bill.

I could see out to the truck, and I noticed a young fellow standing there, close to my truck. From the distance I was at, I couldn't tell much about the fellow, but he had long hair and he was carrying some kind of package. I groaned when I saw the boy, thinking he was some kind of panhandler. I didn't need any kind of shit, 'cause I was still four hours from Abilene, and, besides, most of those panhandler types are just too Goddam worthless to get a decent job, anyhow.

I grabbed my fuel receipt and hurried out to my Pete. The fellow looked up at me as I strode rapidly toward him. I had an opportunity as I walked to examine him. He was a young man in his early twenties, and he wasn't grimy like I figured he would be. His blonde hair, although long, was clean and combed back from his face. The boy wore jeans with the knees torn out and a tee-shirt. As I got closer, I could see that his tee-shirt had a dinosaur on it and said Jurassic Park.

His stance was non-threatening, and I decided on the spot to just ignore him. I started to walk past him.

"Excuse me, sir," the boy called out to me, "but would you be heading toward Abilene?"

I glanced over at him, prepared to brush him off, but something in his expression caused me to pause. The boy was, well, kind of beautiful (and I would have bet money ten minutes before that I never in my life would have found a man that I would call beautiful). But, no lie, that's the effect he had on me from the first.

Let me explain. The boy had a handsome, young face with wide- set, large and innocent sky-blue eyes. (It was his eyes that first attracted my interest, and to this day, I think they're his best feature.) He wore his hair parted down the middle and swept back along each side of his head. He was as slim as a colt, and he just looked so, well, so damn young.

"Yeah?" I answered his question with a question.

"Yessir," said Billy, "I need a ride." Something in my strange expression must have given him pause, because he stumbled in his speech. "I, I mean, I'll pay you, but, uh, I need to get Abilene by morning. If, I mean, if you're going that way."

To my surprise, I found that I was interested in the young man, and I really wanted to hear whatever story had put him out on the Texas plain at 10:00 pm. I told him, "I don't usually take on any passengers." His face fell, and I quickly added, "But it happens I AM going to Abilene, and it's late and I could use some company, if for nothing else but to keep me awake."

The boy grinned, exposing smooth, white teeth. "So you'll take me?"

"Sure, pardner," I said. "Welcome aboard."

"Thanks, mister!" he said. "My name's Billy McDaniels, with an 's'." The boy held out his hand.

I took his hand and shook it. His shake was firm and strong. "Pleased to meet you," I said. "Jake Wascom."

I stuck my key in the passenger side door and unlocked it. "Well, Mr. Billy McDaniels, throw your bag up in there and climb in. We're hitting the road."

I watched him as he tossed his bag in and clambered up the ladder into the cab. He just naturally climbed up, as if he had done it dozens of times before. I went around to my side and climbed in. My big Bostrum air ride seat settled down as I sat in it, and I looked across at the boy. "Ready?" I asked.

"Sure am," said Billy. "But, where should I put my bag?" (It's strange that for all their size, the interior room in the front cab of a truck is limited.)

"Just throw it in the sleeper." I indicated the Pete's sleeper compartment with my elbow, and then I watched the slender boy as he leaned over and tossed the bag back. He settled back into his seat and looked at me expectantly.

I grinned at his look of wide-eyed expectancy, and I turned the key. The panel lit up with its dozen lights and gauges. I checked the fuel gauges to be certain the Mexican had completely filled my saddle tanks, and then I depressed the starter button. The big Cummins rattled to life, and the turbo soon added its distinctive whine.

I flipped the row of switches that turned on the truck and trailer's running lights, and glanced over at the boy. He had slipped into his seat belt, and he looked ready to ride. I stomped on the clutch and slipped the transmission into gear.

The Cummins bellowed, and the big Pete pulled smoothly away from the fuel island. A few minutes later, and I was merging with the sparse evening traffic on the interstate, and we were rolling toward Abilene.

"Is this truck new?" the boy asked, talking loudly to be heard over the wind, tires, and engine.

"Just about," I hollered back. "Only about two hundred thousand miles on it." I patted the vinyl-covered dash affection- ately. "Just now getting broken in!"

"Two hundred thousand?" The boy whistled. "How long did it take to get that much mileage?"

"About a year and a half," I answered. I watched the boy as he looked around the interior of my rig. I could tell that he was impressed by the big machine.

We chatted on and off for the next several hours, and the big wheels ate up the miles until we were on the outskirts of Abilene. We had rolled up the windows a couple of hours before, but the smell of Abilene came into the cab strong, the smell of cattle and industry, which are one and the same in Abilene, Texas.

"Where you going to, Billy?" I hollered.

"I can get off anywhere, Jake," he answered. "I got to go check on a job tomorrow, and I'm just going to find a motel tonight."

In the brief time that I had known the young man, I had taken a shine to him. His innocent and cheerful personality lit a light in a part of me that seldom saw day. That's the only way I can explain what I offered next.

"Well, I'm going to get a motel myself, Billy. I've got some miles under my belt this time, and I'm about ready to take a long shower and relax in front of some HBO. I know an Eight Days up the road a ways that's real reasonable and clean, too. Why don't we split a room?"

That I made that offer confused me even when I made it. Me, Jake Wascom, footloose and fancy free, travelling the highways and byways of America. (I really do see myself that way- funny, isn't it?) I always avoided entanglements with other people like I avoid the cheap, sulphury Mexican diesel. And here I was asking a strange boy that I didn't know from Adam to share a room with me.

The look Billy gave me was really grateful, and that made me feel better about my offer. We motored on into Abilene, and I pulled into the roadside motel.

I parked the rig and went into the office to register. The motel clerk was some kind of camel jockey, Iranian or something, but he quickly got me checked into a double room. I got the keys and walked back outside.

Billy was standing next to the ticking rig, leaned back against the vertical grille with his sneakered foot up on the big chrome bumper. I got my bag out of the compartment on my side, opened the driver's-side door, and pushed the central lock button. I could hear the whoosh of air as the doors and compartments all locked. I turned the key to arm the burglar alarm, and then picked up my bag. I turned back to the front.

"You ready?" I asked the boy.

Billy sprang forward, his bag in his hand. "Yep!" he said.

As we walked toward the room, the warm breeze caused his long, blonde hair to flutter, and I again had disturbing thoughts about the young man's attractiveness to me. With a concentrated effort, I put such thoughts from my head.

The room was clean and neat, and we each tossed our bags on the beds. Billy inspected the room and turned on the TV. I asked him if he liked pizza, and we ended up later ordering from Dominoes.

I sank down onto the bed and pulled off my boots and thick socks. It felt so good to let my tired feet breathe. I looked over at Billy. He was looking in all the dresser drawers, as curious as a cat. I had to smile.

"Billy," I said, "I'm going to hit the shower first. There's soap and stuff in the bathroom. You need anything?"

"Nope, Jake," he said, "I'm about set."

I laid a twenty down on the dresser beside him and told him to go ahead and order the pizza if he was hungry.

"Alrighty," Billy said.

I walked into the bathroom in my bare feet and started to undress in front of the mirror. From force of long habit, I left the door open. What I didn't realize then was that there was a mirror on the closet door opposite the bathroom, and that Billy, laying in bed, could see me as I undressed.

I pulled my shirt up and over my head and examined myself in the mirror. My chest is hairy and my belly is still slim, even though I'm pushing forty. I guess it's all the loading and unloading I do with the truck. It's hard physical labor, and it keeps me fit. If it wasn't for that, I would just become a lump trucking around all day, like so many other drivers do.

I unbuckled my belt and slipped out of my jeans. I prefer boxer shorts, and the sight of them and my pale legs always makes me grin at myself. Oh, well, skin cancer may get my left arm and my nose, but it sure won't get my LEGS, at least.

I pushed the shorts off and glanced in the mirror. My large cock, free of the soft fabric, settled loosely against the cradle of my balls, and I somewhat idly scratched myself there for a moment.

You're still a handsome devil, I thought, and then I turned to the shower. I adjusted the water and stepped in. I have a habit of singing whenever I'm in the shower, and that night I sang a Willie Nelson song.

"In the twilight there I see your

Blue eyes crying in the rain.

When we kissed goodbye and parted

I knew we'd never meet again.

Love is like a dying ember,

Only memories remain.

Through the ages I'll remember

Blue eyes crying in the rain."

I have a fine tenor voice, even if I do say so myself, and that song is one of my best. I love the emotion and sadness in that song, and I like to sing it loud and clear.

I was concentrating on the difficult high notes while I soaped up myself, and I didn't notice that Billy had come into the room. I was startled when he called out to me. "Hey, Jake, what's that you're singing?"

After the initial shock of having someone talk to me in my shower, I was able to laugh. "What kind of Texan are you, boy, if you don't recognize Willie Nelson? It's from a record called the Red-headed Stranger."

I rinsed myself off and turned off the water. Billy was saying that he had never heard of the song, but it was pretty and kind of sad, too. Well, score one for the generation gap, but at least the boy could appreciate fine music!

"How about handing me that towel there, pardner?" I asked the boy, and I slid the shower curtain open.

Billy thrust the towel into my hand, and I glanced at the boy. He had removed his shirt and jeans and changed into a pair of cutoffs. He was barefoot. My eyes took in his smooth chest with its nearly invisible blonde hair and his trim stomach. Looking at him made me think of when I was a young man his age, and I mused on it while we both fell silent.

I dried my hair off and stepped out of the shower. Billy was leaning against the doorway, his lean body relaxed, his arms crossed. His eyes were lowered, and I realized that he was looking at my large cock.

Well, I'm a proud creature, and I could recognize an admiring glance, and I didn't blame the boy for his curiosity.

"You got a good set of equipment there, Jake," Billy blurted out, and then his eyes searched my face, suddenly anxious to see if he had offended me.

I grinned at the boy. "It serves my purpose, Billy."

I don't know what got into me then, but it turned out that I would be forever more glad that something did. I had dried my chest and belly, and I wrapped the towel around my cock, drying it and my balls vigorously. My cock responded to the stimulation and began to harden. I leaned over to dry my legs and knees, and, when I straightened, my cock was half-erect.

Billy's eyes were back on my cock and I could tell that he was wanting to say something. "What's the matter, boy?" I said. "Cat got your tongue?"

"Uh, no, Jake." Billy said. "But I was wondering... uh, I mean, with that cock you must have had offers from other guys, uh, haven't you?"

I could tell where he was heading, and I could have stopped him if I wanted to, but hearing a trim young man talk like that to me made me proud. I wanted to hear him out.

"What do you mean, Billy?" I answered his question with a question.

"Uh, I mean that I would like to take that big cock of yours and suck on it."

Truth be told, no one had ever told me that before, and I looked closely at the young man. Billy's face was anxious, but he had an expression, too, of earnestness. I thought it over for a moment.

And it was my cock that decided the issue for me. As I was looking at the slender boy and thinking, my cock arose all by itself. I looked down in wonder at my organ, and I was forced to laugh.

"Well, Billy," I said, "it seems that at least one part of me is all for that idea. But I've never been sucked on by a man, and you'll have to be careful with me. If I don't like it, I'm going to tell you to stop."

"Oh, I will, I will!" Billy cried. He held his hand out and my hand slipped into his. The touch of his hand in mine felt entirely natural, and I watched his lean body move as he walked. The boy led me out of the bathroom and to the closest bed.

"Just lay down, Jake, and relax. I'll take care of the rest."

I lay down on the bed, and my adventurous organ pressed up against my stomach. Billy slipped out of his shorts and sat down on the bed beside me. He was not wearing underwear, and I had a clear view of the top of his head and his slender shoulders when he leaned over and took my cock into his mouth.

The reader will have to bear with me because this will be hard for me to describe. I was married for fifteen years, and my prude of a wife, in all that time, would never suck my cock. The dozen or so blow-jobs I've had in my life were all at the hands of whores, and all of them were nothing compared to the blow-job I received that night from the blue-eyed young man.

Billy started by wrapping his lips tightly around the enlarged head of my cock. He nibbled with his lips on the lower edge, and then he stuck the tip of his tongue into my piss-slit. The sensation was like nothing I'd ever felt before.

I was finding it hard to stay relaxed, because I could feel my breath speeding up, and I could feel my body tense. Billy moved his lips down along my shaft, taking much of my cock into his eager mouth. I felt my cock bottom against his throat, and then he started up my shaft.

Up and down his head went, and I found my breathing changing to match his strokes. I leaned my head back against one of the sanitized motel pillows and I allowed my hands to rest beside me. I could see the top of his head moving up and down as he worked my cock. His long hair lay against my stomach.

Surprisingly to me, I quickly became accustomed to the idea that I was laying in bed with another man.

Billy moved his head faster, and I began to feel a warmth in my belly. The sensations were coming fast and heavy and I felt a strange combination of pleasure and discomfort. Billy had the base of my shaft in one hand and he gently squeezed my balls with his other hand.

His efforts had me humming, and I didn't know how much more I could take. Billy would twist his head slightly when he slid his lips upward, and I would tingle every time he did that. The tingling feeling grew, and I was soon panting.

My hands could no longer be passive, so I reached down and placed one hand on Billy's slender shoulder. The warmth of his skin seemed to reassure me (from what, I don't know). My other hand knotted into the sheets, I guess.

I felt the fires ignite in my belly and knew that I would soon explode. I don't know if I cried out or not, but my belly pulled inward suddenly and I came.

My hips rocked, but still the boy's mouth clutched at my cock. I felt a big outpouring of my jism blast from me, and the amazing young man took it all in his mouth.

Even then, he keep up the motions. Soon, I exploded again, and he took it from me, milking my cock for every drop of come. With this second immense shot, I was done, and the tension left my body. I fell back against the sheets, exhausted.

Billy milked a few more drops from me, and then he released my cock. It lay against my belly like some spent thing. The boy licked it where it lay, making echoes in me that reminded me of the passion just past.

Billy left my cock and lay snugly along side me. I could feel his cock against my hip. The boy leaned over me, close to my face, and I knew that he was going to kiss me. Oddly enough, I had previously thought that the kiss of a man would be distasteful, to say the least, but I found that I welcomed the lips of the slender boy.

I leaned my head over and pressed my lips against his. Soon, we were french-kissing. I let my tongue roam around in his mouth, and I could taste the distinctive flavor of my own cum. It was a strange and marvelous experience for me. I could feel his taut, young body pressed against mine, and his lips were hot and hungry, not yielding and reserved like a woman's.

The slender boy tossed a leg over mine, and he was astride me, his lips still pressed to mine. I took his face in my hands, holding him there by framing his strong jaw with my fingers and thumbs. It was the longest and most satisfying kiss I had ever had.

I became aware of the boy's cock pressing against my hip, and I a thought occurred to me that I should return some of the pleasure he had given me. I broke off the kiss and pushed him onto his back. He lay there with a puzzled expression, which changed when I bent to his crotch.

Billy's cock was well proportioned, about six inches long, and circumcised. A drop of shiny pre-cum glistened at the tip. Suddenly, I had a real hunger to take that member into my mouth, and the suddenness with which the desire arose shocked me. My mind whirled with several thoughts, but I gently picked up the boy's member.

I touched my tongue gently to the tip, tasting that liquid drop there. It felt amazingly cool on my tongue. I then pressed my lips together and wrapped them around the head of Billy's cock.

I tried to remember how he had done mine, and I tried to burrow the tip of my tongue into his piss-slit. This caused Billy to moan, so I moved my lips further down, until I had his entire head inside my mouth.

Billy had made it look easy, but it was actually difficult to remember to keep my lips pressed well forward from my teeth. I nibbled at the lower edge of his helmet with my lower lip, as he had done for me, and was rewarded with another groan from the boy.

I slid my lips down his shaft. I could really feel the veins in his cock slide past my lips. His cock was a fullness in my mouth. I had to adjust my head position to take more of his length. His shaft bumped into the back of my palate, and I tilted my head slightly so I could take some more.

His cock pressed past my tonsils, I guess, and the fullness in my mouth caused me to gag. I suppressed the urge, and then I remembered to breath through my nose. I had to concentrate continuously on keeping my teeth away from his tender flesh.

Billy looked down at me, and I could just see his face from the corner of my eye. His eyes were half-lidded.

I had a hand pressed to his taut stomach, and I could feel the tension gathering in the boy. As I slid back up along his member, Billy shivered.

I found that his length was easily taken, and I soon started a rhythmic up and down motion. Billy moaned out his pleasure as I stroked. I became used to the feeling of his shaft in my mouth, and I took it from head to base with ease.

In a way, it gave me a sense of power, knowing that I could exercise such control over the slender boy's pleasure. I resolved not to misuse the power, and I bent to my task.

Billy's breath came more quickly, and his moaning increased. I could feel the strong forces at play in his body. I remembered how he had given his head a small twist when he ran his lips across the edges of my helmet, and I copied the motion.

Billy was good for several more strokes, and then his body became hardened, he exhaled forcefully and lifted his narrow hips from the bed.

I took his cum in my mouth.

It was nothing like what I expected. For one thing, the juice exploding from the boy was cool, not hot. It had a surprisingly salty taste, and the taste was not unpleasant.

I raked my lips repeatedly back and forth across his helmet, trying to milk his cock for more of the fluid.

Billy shuddered and cried out again. Another load of cum shot into my mouth, and I quickly swallowed the load.

I glanced up at Billy. The boy had his hands tangled into the sheets and his head thrown back. His chest was red and heaving. I turned my head and looked down along his slender, long legs. I could see that his toes were pointed.

I continued the milking motions and was rewarded by another explosion that nearly lifted me off the boy. I could feel the cum pulse from his cock, and the last of his load sputtered into my mouth. I gave his cock a few more licks with the tip of my tongue, and then I gently released the boy.

Billy laid there, his face relaxed. I could see the strength returning to his body. He gave me a sleepy smile. I settled onto an elbow, just watching the boy for a time.

My thoughts were confused. I, Jake Wascom, a man's man, had sucked a cock, and I enjoyed it! The experience was stronger and WILDER than anything I ever had gotten from a woman. I was bemused somewhat that I was, so late in my life, discovering a new side of my sexuality.

Of course, I wouldn't have discovered this new side of me at all if it were not for the wide-eyed, slender hitchhiker before me. I began to feel a great affection for the blue-eyed boy.

My thoughts must have run across my face, because when my attention returned to Billy, he was smiling.

"How you doing, Jake?" Billy asked.

"Just fine, Billy," I said, and I realized that I was telling an absolute truth.

"Want to take another shower?" Billy smiled, exposing smooth white teeth.

I could only nod mutely, my feelings too strong for words. Billy reached out and took my hand.

I grinned despite myself.

Oh, the evil, evil boy!

The End

by P A N A