"Heavy Haulage Two" March 2001 By Furry Frank, UK furryfranks_email@yahoo.co.uk
Warning! The following is intended for adults over eighteen years of age only. Please note that the text contains graphic descriptions of sexual acts between males. If you find such matters distasteful, or if the perusal of such material is illegal in your circumstances, you must go no further. Brand names are used without implication or prejudice in regard to intellectual property rights. Names, places, persons and organisations herein are fictitious. Any similarities are purely coincidental. [Addenda: Please note that the coppers described in this story are a work of fiction. Real British coppers, lorry drivers, council employees etc. are the epitome of professionalism and integrity and never behave in the ways described herein.]
Foreword
This story continues from Steve's original encounters in "Heavy Haulage", which you can also find archived at this site. Sorry for taking so long to getting around to writing the next section! Big thanks to everyone for all the horny e-mails. Please keep them coming!
Part Three "Hauled Over"
"Fucking buggering pigging arseholes!" Steve shouted, slamming on the service brakes and swinging his lorry into a convenient lay by. Gritting his teeth, he threw his 'Trucker's Road Atlas of Britain' from his lap and into the corner of the 'R' type cab of his Scania. It fell on top of a shabby pile of Coke cans and empty Marlboro packets currently cluttering up the passenger foot well. He grabbed the steering wheel with his big hands, squeezing until his hairy knuckles turned white and his ugly temper simmered down a little. He was starting to think that he should have taken that turning he'd seen a couple of miles back after all.
Still, Steve was painfully aware that he could hardly execute a three point turn and nip back when he was driving an articulated lorry nearly fifty feet long with several tonnes of engineering components packed into the curtainside trailer. He had a quick rummage beneath his grubby sweater and pulled out a pack of tabs and lit up, deciding a cigarette might improve his mood as he puffed curls of blue smoke around the cab. He'd been out on the road since the small hours, setting off from a pick up in Aberdeen in the morning, with instructions to get his load to Swansea for a six o' clock drop the next morning. He'd opted on what he thought would be a leisurely 'scenic route', which had only resulted in him becoming increasingly lost among endless winding back roads through the Welsh countryside. Generally, they weren't roads that had been intended for heavy goods vehicles and a few particularly tight bends had left Steve sweating with the thought of failing to get round them at all.
Steve glared angrily at his road map sitting in the foot well, exactly where it had fallen, draped over his orange hard hat stencilled with his employer's name. Either his brain was fucked or his map was; as neither was helping him to get any where near civilisation, much less anywhere near where he wanted to be by now. He chucked his dog end out of the window, took a few deep breaths and eased the gearbox back into first low. Coughing the last of the smoke out of his lungs, Steve released the brakes, glanced into the barn door mirrors and let the enormous torque of the twelve-litre diesel get him rolling again. He'd only another hour of driving permissible before EC driving hour's regulations compelled him to turn in for the night. He couldn't give a fuck whether he was late in the morning any more. He could always give the ever-efficient dispatcher, Ruth, a call on his mobile and try to think up some excuse. Preferably something other than the humiliating truth that he'd got himself completely lost in Welsh fucking Wales.
Steve's foul mood wasn't just down to the fact he was lost, which had somewhat dented his professional trucker's ego. As he flipped on the big headlights to combat the growing darkness, Steve stewed over the fact his short temper and frustration were as much a symptom of not having had a fuck or having been fucked for a couple of months. When he wasn't away on overnight runs or working night shifts, he'd been packing in plenty of sessions at the gym to try and thrash out some of his growing frustrations, to increasingly little satisfaction. He was getting rather edgy of late and prone to continual involuntary erections, compounded by the vibrations of the truck engine when he was working. His bollocks seemed to have a developed a permanent ache and his prostate gland was itching for a good poke. Every halfway decent male mammal that came near enough for him to get a sniff of set him off. He could have sworn he could detect testosterone at fifty paces. Closing the curtains and having a good wank on his sleeping bag in the sleeper section of the cab was no substitute for a good wrestle with some other hairy bit of rough. His sleeping bag had become so covered with seminal stains from letting off a bit of steam whenever possible, it would probably immediately fertilise any woman who so much as sat on it. Steve had a grin to himself at that thought. The chances of him ever having a woman in the back of his cab were round about zero, and not because he wouldn't mix work with pleasure. Steve may have been six foot two, muscular and reasonably good looking, but he was happy to leave the ladies for the other lads. Physically, he'd always been much more interested in other blokes.
Not that he ever let any of his mates at the depot know that, or even gave them the slightest hint. It wasn't always easy. While most of his colleagues were typical overweight scruffy, dirty truckers, mainly in their forties, and not particularly fuckable, there were a handful who made him want to bend over and spread his legs. In particular, his firm had recently taken on a couple of big agency drivers on short term contracts in rented lorries, both of them in their mid twenties, near enough his own age, and both of them with firm tight arses that Steve would have loved to slide his cock into. He couldn't stop thinking about grabbing them by the hips and giving their arseholes a fucking good poke. It only added to his frustration. His job always brought him into contact with plenty of prime, burly specimens of rough, raw masculinity, but all of them, at least outwardly, were fiercely heterosexual. In fact most of his fellow truckers were pretty homophobic and regarded arses as strictly 'No Poking Compartments'. They tended to strut around, wide between the legs, to make sure each other could hear their big straight men's balls clanging, not so Steve could get down on his knees and suck them off, much as he wanted to in some cases. If they ever found out which way he was inclined, he'd never enjoy his job again, if his haulage firm didn't find some excuse to sack him on the spot. He'd end up the butt of a snide, disgusted or openly hostile remark every minute he could draw a breath. That was if he was lucky. More likely, a few of them would just drag him out into the depot yard and beat the fuck out of him with a tire iron or kick his ribs in with a pair of steel toed boots.
Steve treated himself to a self-pitying sigh and continued to rumble his Scania down the quiet road he'd lost himself on, resigned to another night involving a chafed palm and a fresh sticky patch on his sleeping bag. To top it all off, half a mile further on, he found himself stuck behind a farmer's tractor chugging along at a tortoise's pace, with the driver oblivious to the steel leviathan stuck behind him. Steve spent a good fifteen minutes cursing and dabbing his brakes until the moron finally swung off into a field without indicating. Steve floored the throttle and let the big diesel free to build up some speed as he worked his way up through the twelve-speed range-splitter transmission. The road widened and before long he found himself approaching a junction onto a road that actually had some proper traffic on it, and thank fuck, a signpost! Steve grinned merrily to himself when he realised he wasn't far off where he wanted to be after all and was at last approaching what you might call civilisation. He swung out onto the wide 'A' road, following the signs for Swansea, keeping his eyes open for a suitable lay by to pull into and grab a few hours sleep and better still, ease the growing tension between his legs. Truth be told he'd been looking forward to a good wank for the last four hours. At least it wouldn't be long before he could get parked up and get his cock out for a good tugging.
Steve kept his left hand on the wheel to pilot the truck and slipped the gearbox into a high gear to keep the lorry rolling without too much attention. He could feel the rumble of the engine rising through the driver's seat, the vibrations working its way through his hairy arse and spreading to his groin. He was badly in need of the wank he'd promised himself. The anticipation of imminent release was also sending the blood thumping into his prick and he could feel his shaft twitching in his boxers. He shuffled his muscular thighs apart in the driver' s seat and reached down with his left hand, cupping his warm, well-packed crotch and giving himself a firm squeeze through the denim of his grubby 501's. It felt good, and he began to slowly rub his aching bollocks through the material. He was getting hard fast and he could feel his erection building, his thick cock beginning to push down the inside of his trouser leg. He felt the shape of his large hairy balls under his jeans, locating each bollock and giving a gentle squeeze. The gusset seam of his dirty Levis dug into his scrotum, pushing each ball tightly to one side. Steve pushed forward in the seat, grunting slightly at the pleasure of the increasing pressure between his legs. He knew he was going to have to pull in soon and do something about his urge. The need for release was becoming overwhelming. He could feel his lengthening prick pushing further down his left trouser leg, and began to stroke his long stout shaft through the material, rubbing the thick rigid pole, straining under the rough material. He could feel a slight tacky wetness half way down his thigh where the tip of dick was beginning to steadily drip with pre-come. He glanced down and saw the thick outline of his cock stretching nearly eight inches down the inside of his trouser leg. He was so hard by now at the prospect of tug in a short while, the ridge of his cock head was clear under the blue denim. Steve knew he was going to have to find a lay by within the next five minutes or his he was more than likely to empty his bollocks into his pants. The thought of having to drive with a wet, sticky crotch afterward only aroused him even more.
Steve was rubbing himself, trying to grasp fat tube with his fingers, pressing through the denim. He looked down and grinned with satisfaction at his size. He'd never had any complaints in that department. Steve suddenly sensed he ought to be keeping his eyes on the road rather than admiring his own cock and glanced up through the windshield.
"Oh Fuck!" Steve swore loudly. He'd been too distracted to notice he was now hurtling along at fifty miles an hour toward a section of road works blocking the carriage way. Temporary traffic lights had been put up to filter the traffic through the remaining open lane, and they were on red.
Within a second he'd stamped on the brake pedal with his steel-toed boot, praying for the air pressure to do its work. He could feel his heart pounding and the beginnings of panic as he focussed on a number of workmen and few gross of traffic cones reflected in his headlights. He could feel the judder of the anti lock brakes and the trailer beginning to slew out behind him as the enormous tyres slid on the road surface. Luckily, the brakes bit in hard and finally slowed him down. Getting an articulated moving was one thing, but it helped to pay a healthy respect to the sorts of energy needed to stop that much weight moving at speed. Luckily for Steve the laws of physics were on his side and he managed to pull up within a few yards of the temporary 'Stop' sign in front of the lights. The cab rocked as he halted and he heard a few unhealthy bangs from inside the trailer as the sudden halt upset the load. At least he hadn't been hauling fine china. Steve wasn't too shaken, but his heart was still pounding and pumping adrenalin through his stocky frame as he released the brakes. He could smell the acrid tang of seared vulcanised rubber even in the cab, and a glance in the offside mirror revealed a few embarrassing black lines marking the fresh tarmac behind him. Steve guiltily peeked around. There was no one behind him and hoped no one had noticed his shoddy driving. He could just imagine the headlines in 'The Sun'. "Wanking HGV Driver Ploughs into Road Works." That'd get him fired quicker than them finding out he preferred other blokes in the sack. Might even lose him his licence and get him banged up in prison. At least that might improve his chances of getting a fuck.
If nothing else, the shock had diminished his urge. His erection had vanished and felt as if his balls had shrunk away to nothing. He was suddenly aware of how tired and bleary eyed he was after a long day's driving and decided to pull in at the next lay by and get some kip, remembering he'd just about stretched the tachograph regulations to the limit. Only a couple of cars filtered through before the lights sequenced through to green before Steve rather cautious and slowly set off, swinging around the traffic cones and listening to the exhausts belching sulphur dioxide. The road works he drove past were fairly extensive. Evidently they were resurfacing part of the carriageway in a long continuous operation. The traffic cones enclosed the works for a few hundred yards before Steve saw the other set of lights at the end. Luckily for him there was decent lay by twenty yards further down, which actually looked like it had been put there with articulated lorries in mind. Too many were too narrow or not long enough for trucks. It was far from glamorous but it'd do for a few hours' kip. It was certainly cheaper and less of a pain in the arse than trying to find a reasonable lorry park in the wilds of Wales. Steve was pleased there was plenty of concealing foliage spreading up the embankment; convenient for having a piss later on. Well, you had to get your priorities sorted.
He pulled in with a satisfying hiss of the air brakes and switched off. Everything seemed suddenly calm and still after living with the noisy engine all day. Steve listened to the pings and gurgles of the cooling three hundred and sixty horsepower diesel for a while before he climbed down from the cab, eager to stretch his legs. His bladder felt a little tight, but he decided he couldn't be arsed with a climb up the embankment. He glanced around. The road was quiet and the lorry sheltered him from the road works, so he walked around to the nearside, and unbuttoned his flies. He stretched his fat cock out from the slit in his boxers, took aim and started to piss a steady pungent stream against one of the back tyres of the cab. He gave it a good soaking; enjoying the smell and patter of his piss as it rinsed the dirt from the side of a big retread rubber tyre. Steve soon emptied his bladder and shook the last few drops from the puckered end of foreskin. Handling his meat was starting to get his one-track mind back into its usual rut. He was getting horny again and he gave his prick a gentle stroke, bringing fairly rapid response from the large tube of flesh he had sticking out of his flies. He thought about having a wank right there, out in the open with his cock in his hand. The risk would be quite a turn on, but he thought better of it. Beside, he was starting to get cold. He reluctantly tucked his cock away and fastened up, ready to get back in the cab and stain his sleeping bag.
Before he did, he decided he'd better have a check inside the trailer to make sure the crashes and bangs he'd heard during his emergency-braking manoeuvre weren't anything serious. He dug his keys and a pair of industrial gloves out of his untidy litter strewn cab and strolled down the length of his lorry, giving it a checking over, before unbolting the back doors, and straining the latches open, wearing the gloves to protect his hands against he sharp metal lever. He jumped up into the dark cavernous interior of the trailer and found he hadn't done that much damage. The entire racket had been caused by nothing more serious than a few overturned boxes of oily cogs and suchlike that hadn't been strapped down properly to their respective pallets. Steve tidied up as best as he could, scratching at his aching crotch, before jumping down from the trailer and locking up. He lit up another Marlboro for one last smoke before his wank, leaning against the trailer puffing blue clouds into the dusk while having butchers at the road works just up from him on the other side of the road.
A group of council workmen were resurfacing a stretch of the road with fresh tarmac. Undoubtedly increasing HGV traffic like Steve's artic had pounded hell out of the road surface. A couple of yellow Leyland council tipper trucks were parked inside the road works along with a large intimidating looking machine for the resurfacing. Steve watched the steam rising from the fresh, wet tarmac and had a sniff at the odours of tar and bitumen floating toward him. Half a dozen lads were busy at work, guiding the tarmac with shovels and fiddling around with the machinery. Steve usually loved blokes in industrial gear, from overalls to waders but most of the workmen there were either to old or too fat to spark any interest from Steve, ambling around looking dirty, tired and disinterested. Steve's watch told him it was coming up to six o' clock soon and he reckoned they'd be knocking off before long. The men seemed to be tidying up and shutting everything down for the night. Steve reckoned it must have been the first time he'd seen road works with someone actually working. He usually spent hours stuck in traffic queues caused by road works, only to eventually get past without seeing any fucker there to do anything. He was convinced half of the works he saw were just a crafty way for most local councils to use up their budget and guarantee the next year's grant.
He was about to knock off to the cab to sort himself out, at long last, when one of the yellow Leyland tipper trucks clattered off down the road past him with an angry belch of black exhaust smoke. Hidden behind, earnestly shovelling away at an enormous heap of gravel was a young well-built workman with a particularly attractive arse. He was filling a trench with the gravel, flinging in heap after heap, and shuffling down the side of the trench as he completed it. He was wearing orange work trousers tucked into a heavy pair of steel toed boots like Steve's own, with a battered black donkey jacket to keep him warm, over which he wore the usual reflective orange waistcoat stencilled with the council's initials. The workman had paused for a rest, and leaned forward over his shovel that he'd stuck into the ground. As he did, the back of his jacket rode up presenting Steve with what looked to be a pair of perfectly rounded, firm muscular cheeks, flattened out against the seat of his filthy orange trousers. He pushed back the peak of his matching orange hard hat with a big dirty hand to wipe the sweat from his brow, before he pulled up his shovel and got back to work. Steve felt a slight disappointment as his jacket covered up his backside again, but not before he'd time to notice the thin line through the material under his buttocks that indicated he'd briefs rather than boxers on underneath. Steve wondered what colour they were. He amused himself by reckoning them to be fluorescent orange to match his work clothes. He was a hard worker, soon getting straight back into his shovelling, putting some muscle into it, digging hard and sweating like a pig under his thick jacket. Watching from behind, Steve noticed the width of his shoulders. He was definitely a big, strong lad. Pity he was stuck shovelling at the roadside. Steve could think of better things he could be up to. He wondered if he was big lad all over. Shame he couldn't get a look at his groin from the angle he was at. He'd never know it, but he'd given Steve something pleasant to think about when he was having his tug.
Steve was about to walk back to the cab, close the curtains and get stuck in, when he got that feeling you get when you know someone is watching you. Steve glanced out the corner of the eye. The workman he'd been surreptitiously ogling had turned round, to start shovelling at the other side of his heap of gravel. Steve dropped down, pretending to tie his bootlace, so he could have another nosy. He glanced up from under his brow. He was definitely looking in his direction, but he was too far away to tell whether it was himself or his lorry that was the attraction. The workman spat onto the fresh tarmac, scratched his ear and got back to his shovelling. He was still facing him and the front of his heavy donkey jacket was open showing a red checked shirt underneath, tucked into his trousers. Steve continued fiddling with his laces and at last got a good look at him from the front. The face under the brim of the orange hard hat was covered with a couple of days' stubble, but young, maybe even a couple of years younger than Steve, making him just into his twenties. He wasn't exactly handsome but considerably above average in a rough masculine sort of way. Steve looked a bit further downwards, slowly glancing down to his crotch. Steve gulped, momentarily distracted from pretending to fiddle with his laces. He'd either got a couple of pairs of socks stuffed down the front of his pants or he was packing some pretty heavy-duty equipment. From what Steve could make of the bulge in his groin, he might even measure up to his own size.
Steve trotted back to the cab quickly as his last observation had set his prick hardening fast, snaking down his thigh again. He planned on getting inside before it became too noticeable. He didn't fancy explaining to group of aggressive workmen with sharp shovels, why he was standing by the roadside looking at them with a hard on. He opened the cab door and climbed up the steps set into the bodywork, pulling himself inside. Steve pulled the curtains around the cab, except for the driver's side window and found it was dark enough to switch on the interior lights. He checked there were no messages from the dispatchers back at the depot before switching off his mobile. Steve then realised he had a perfect view of the road works in the massive driver's side rear view mirror if he sat in the driver's seat. He had a moment of indecision. He desperately needed a wank, but considered he'd enjoy it even more if he forced himself to wait a bit longer for it. He could then have another few minutes enjoying the view, as it were. Steve settled back into the drivers seat and looked into the reflection while gently rubbing his bulging groin. He could see a couple of Transits had turned up, undoubtedly to ferry the lads back to their digs at the end of the day. It was nearly night-time by now and the workmen had run out of light to work by. He couldn't see the bloke who'd caught his attention, and watched eagerly as a number of men jostled and joked, climbing into the vans. Steve chuckled as he watched one particularly fat workman squeezing himself through the narrow front passenger door of the lead Transit with some difficulty. He still saw no sign of the well-hung bloke with the tasty arse though. Steve grunted with annoyance, reckoning he must have been one of the first onto the van, and he'd missed him. With the road works, secure, the vans headed off past Steve down the road toward Swansea. Steve got back to stroking his cock through his jeans and shuffled around to climb into the back for his long awaited release.
He'd just unbuckled his belt and positioned himself to dive onto his sleeping bag in the cramped compartment at the back of the cab when he heard a couple of gentle metallic bangs coming from the bottom of the driver's door.
"Fucking Hell!" Steve cursed under his breath, speechless at yet another set back between him and a despunking. Steve glanced back into the offside mirror. From the angle it was set, all he could make out at road level was the top of an orange hard hat. 'Hello!' thought Steve, smelling something fishy. This could be worth a delay. He knew no one would be able to see from outside at ground level, but he reached over to the passenger foot well and recovered his Truckers' Road Atlas and slid it over his hips to hide his erection, just in case, as he lowered himself back into the driver's seat. He rolled down the window and leaned out, looking down to see who'd disturbed him.
He wasn't disappointed. He recognised the sooty unshaven face immediately as belonging to the stocky young workman he'd been admiring minutes earlier. He was clutching a tartan flask and a Tupperware sandwich box in his big mitts, probably filled for him for his lunch by his girlfriend, or more likely, by his mum. He was a hefty lad up close, maybe a touch shorter than Steve's six foot two, but equally well built, naturally muscular, without a hint of fat hiding anywhere. Steve somehow managed to control himself and stop himself from another good look between his legs. The lump of prime raw steak sweating a few inches under his nose brought a hungry twitch from his rock hard dick. Steve reminded himself the lad wasn't to know that and tried to appear unflustered. It was hard enough not to start panting over him in his present horny state. Steve wondered what it'd be like to fuck him. He could just imagine grabbing hold of him and slipping his long prick deep into his arse, thrusting into backside his until he shot a fresh slick load deep up his hot young hole.
"Sorry to bother you, mate" the workman began. He had a soft, rolling, slightly dopey sounding Welsh accent. Steve loved accents. In fact anything different from his own Birmingham lilt triggered an interest. "Fact is, I can't seem to find my fucking matches anywhere. Must have left them at home today. Couldn't spare us a light could you?"
Steve grinned with curiosity. It was a bit of a clich^Âd conversational gambit, but pulled a lighter from a cubbyhole on the dashboard and passed it down to him anyway. He rummaged in his donkey jacket for his cigarettes, stuck one in his mouth and lit up, before passing the lighter back to Steve, with his fag packet. Steve accepted the offer, extracted one of his fags and returned the pack. His hand brushed against Steve's as he recovered his tabs, sending a tingle down his spine. He had great hands, dirty and calloused with hours of shovelling, with broad palms and thick fingers. Steve could just imagine what it would feel like to have his balls grabbed and squeezed by those hands, what his meaty fist would feel like grasping his throbbing cock. The workman thanked him earnestly for the light, and puffed away.
"How come you didn't get a lift back with your mates?" Steve asked.
The lad paused as if thinking carefully about the answer.
"I only live twenty minutes down the road so I usually walk see?"
Steve nodded. He noticed the lad was still sweating, as he wiped a small bead from the end of his nose with his jacket sleeve. He was better looking than ever close up. Steve noticed the top couple of buttons of his shirt were open, giving Steve a glimpse of a sparse patch curly brown chest hair. His cock twitched down the length of his thigh. He stroked a little, moving slowly so the workman wouldn't notice. His steadily dripping pre-come was beginning to soak through the denim.
"Nice lorry" the workman commented, glancing appreciatively down the length of the vehicle, before wincing when he released how lame his comment must have sounded to a trucker. Steve eyed him suspiciously. He'd got his light, so why stick around? Most blokes he knew didn't casually start conversation in lay bays with passing lorry drivers. Either he was bored and just looking for a bit of a chat, or he was as horny as Steve and looking for a fuck. Steve wasn't far off ejaculating into his trouser leg and hadn't the time for a load of bullshit to establish if they were after the same thing or not. If he just wanted a bit of conversation, tasty as he was, Steve was going to tell him to fuck off. Steve grudgingly respond to his comment.
"Cheers mate. It's a Scania six by two. 'R' type sleeper cab."
The workman nodded stupidly, Steve comments clearly straight over the top of his head. Steve realised the size of his brain probably didn't match the size of the rest of him. Steve couldn't careless if he was a bit thick: It wasn't chess he wanted to play with him.
"Bet it's comfortable for the drivers like, though?" he replied.
"Yeah, There's a big fucking bunk just behind here!" Steve responded immediately, slightly exasperated and gestured with a thumb over his shoulders, his patience rapidly evaporating and his cock aching painfully.
"Really?" the workman replied, frowning and burying his hand in his pockets. Yes, fucking really! Steve thought. If the lad didn't pick up on that obvious offer, he doubted they were on the same level.
"Must be pretty warm in there" He replied, looking nervous and shuffling his heavy work boots around, not catching Steve in the eye. Hello, Hello! Steve thought. That seemed more like it. He could feel his heart rate climbing rapidly hoping this was going to be the start of something interesting. He was caught halfway between lust and anger. If the bloke wanted a fuck, he wished he would just bloody well come out with it. He certainly wasn't going to say no. It was that long since his last proper shag he was almost desperate. Steve noticed that the lad had stuck his hands deep into the pockets of his jacket and was holding it shut, covering his crotch. Either he was wrapping up against the cold, or he was trying to hide something, just like Steve was under his Atlas. Go for broke Steve thought.
"It is pretty warm in here. Do you want to come up for a bit? Get warmed up?" Steve waited in a pained silence for his reply. He remembered how fuckable his arse had looked earlier. Just say fucking yes mate! Steve thought, his prick throbbing eagerly.
"Thanks mate, I wouldn't say no." Steve grinned from ear to ear. About fucking time too! The lad clumped around the front of the cab while Steve kicked some of his rubbish out of the way. He dropped the atlas, and leaned back, spreading his legs. The first thing the workman would see when he climbed in would be Steve's crotch and his obvious arousal. At least it made it clear from the start what he was expecting. He was in no mood for more small talk.
The workman opened the door, chucked his flask and sarnie box into the foot well and climbed up the passenger side. He got a good eyeful of Steve's bulging crotch.
"Bloody hell mate! You've got plenty under there!" He grinned, his eyes widening greedily. The front of the lad's jacket had spread open. Steve was right. He looked to be as hard as Steve under his trousers, sticking out at the flies. The workman dropped his bulk into the passenger seat and took off his orange hard hat to reveal a bristly grade three shaved scalp. He dropped it onto the dash next to Steve's and started to shuffle out of his jacket and fluorescent waistcoat as Steve watched, rubbing himself between his legs. He was filthy with a day's hard physical work. His orange trousers were streaked black all over with tarmac, oil and dirt from the roads. He was still wriggling out of his jacket a couple of feet away in the passenger seat, giving Steve time to have a good sniff of him. He smelled strongly of tar and bitumen mixed with sweat and testosterone. It was a heady mix, arousing Steve all the more. The workman reached over for Steve's thigh and without hesitation, stroked up to his crotch and started rubbing, cupping the bulge. Steve groaned deeply with pleasure at his heavy touch. This was going to be a much better way of relieving his tension than wanking on his own.
"Get in the back." Steve grunted, reluctantly pushing his hand aside and climbing through. He sat down on his sleeping bag, leaning up against the back wall of the cab, propping himself in position with his elbows. The lad looked a little confused, unsure of what Steve wanted him to do. Steve parted his thighs and pointed to the floor in front of him.
"On your knees, mate." He ordered. The lad grinned enthusiastically, figuring out correctly that Steve wanted him to suck him off. He managed to squeeze his bulk in behind the driver's seat. The sleeper compartment was cramped enough for one bloke trying to sleep, let alone a couple of big blokes having a bit of fun. Both men ended up with bruised elbows and knees before Steve had got the workman on the floor in front of him.
The lad went straight for his belt buckle, unfastened then popped open the flies of jeans with one sharp tug from his strong mucky hands. Steve let him ease his jeans down to his ankles, before he roughly pulled his boxers down to join them. Steve just managed to lift up his arse to let them escape in time. He pulled his sweater up and glanced down. His cock was sticking straight up, from his dense bed of dark wiry pubic curls, long, thick and hard as steel. His rubbery foreskin had bunched back along the shaft leaving the tip exposed like a purple tinged mushroom, wet and sticky with his leaking pre-come. He watched as the workman wrapped his grimy fist around his shaft and squeezed until he made him grunt appreciatively. Steve leaned back to enjoy himself. The lads other hand found the swollen hairy sack of his bollocks, and rubbed enthusiastically. He pushed a thick finger in between Steve's legs and stroked along the hairy bridge from his arsehole to his balls. He then pushed his finger against his bollocks, parting his damp sack, and running his finger roughly along the seam of his scrotum. He let go of his cock and slipped a mucky hand under his sweater, rubbing his hairy belly with one hand, and stroking the insides of his spread thighs with the other. Steve's cock was twitching and dribbling fluid with his touch and he was wriggling with urgency on his bunk. Steve normally didn't mind plenty of foreplay, but he was too excited to wait. He was very likely to empty his load before the lad got started.
"Come on, suck it!" Steve growled. He ran his hands over his head, enjoying his the feeling of the short bristles as he pulled his face toward his groin.
The workman looked at his cock nervously, both turned on and intimidated by his size. He looked up at Steve and grinned, before licking up the full length of his rigid pole, from his balls to the tip. He gave him a few licks with his wet pink tongue, like a dog going at a particularly juicy bone. He took hold of his shaft at the base to hold him still, locking a thick finger around him, before flicking his tongue over the tip, poking into the oozing slot at the end, tasting Steve's salty fluids. A few pearly seminal drops were now starting to bead at the tip, and Steve grunted, the constant handling stimulating him near to climax. The lad took one last lick, from Steve's knee to his balls, his stubble scraping up the insides of his thighs. Steve watched him open wide and close his lips around the tip of his cock, sucking hard.
Steve closed his eyes groaning loudly, breathing heavily, as he felts the workman's tongue lapping around his cockhead. The workman let his prick slip free, and gently bit and tugged at his foreskin, pulling and stretching the fleshy fold, bring a surprised yelp and grunt of pain from Steve, before he growled contently with the strange pleasure. The workman stopped chewing and took his cock back into his mouth, and began to slip him in. Steve felt the first few inches being taken in and watched his meat disappearing deep into the lad's face. The workman started bobbing at his crotch, rubbing his hairy thighs with his hands, slipping his fat piece of meat in and out, and slurping noisily. Steve began to sweat and wriggle, thrusting his hips upward, gasping with enjoyment, trying to push his cock deeper into the lad's mouth, bringing a few gagging noises as he pushed against the smooth back of the lad's throat. He didn't object, but slipped up and down Steve's shaft more quickly. Another minute of noisy sucking brought him to his climax and Steve felt his balls tightening further, swollen and full, the familiar sensation of orgasm thudding into his loins. He grabbed his the sleeping bag under his arse, tightly gripping with balled fists as blast off became inevitable. He didn't bother to warn the lad, but the way he quickened his pace, and sealed his lips tight around his thick tool showed he knew what was coming. Steve felt the strongest climax he'd had for months crashing through him and couldn't help himself from bellowing out loudly. He felt himself explode into the workman's mouth, slick wet bolts of spunk spurting powerfully into him. He could swear he saw stars. He felt several spasms each accompanied by another copious jet of spunk. The workman was swallowing deeply, sucking the last of it out and slurping Steve's muck down his gullet. Steve saw a couple of milky drops escape the corner of his mouth, running down through the short stubble over his chin.
The workman held him in for a little longer, sucking and licking him clean until Steve began to soften, and pushed his head up, the tip of his cock slipping out of his mouth with a last slurp. Steve gave him a big dirty grin of satisfaction. The lad looked particularly good when his face was buried in his crotch. "Your turn." Steve panted, still horny and more than a little eager to see what the big lad had got in his pants. He reached under his damp armpits and pushed him up, watching as he clumsily found his feet, having to stoop and bend his neck a little to keep from bagging his shaved head against the roof of the cab. With Steve sitting on the bunk, and the lad standing, his height positioned his crotch perfectly at the level of Steve's face. The front of his mucky orange trousers were sticking straight out with the strength of the erection underneath. He stayed quiet and still as Steve unzipped his flies and pushed a hand in. He felt a large and throbbing shaft inside, and pushed his trousers down to reveal a thick pair of hairy thighs and tight black briefs. Not orange after all. Still, he couldn't give a fuck about his underpants, he was only interested in what he was about to find underneath. He pushed his checked shirt up out of the way, dug under the elastic waistband and pulled his pants down to his knees with one sharp tug. Steve sat back and admired the view. The lad had a nice cock. He was so straight you could have taken a spirit level to him, and he looked rock hard, shiny and bulging. He wasn't immensely long, a good seven inches or so, but he was extremely thick, about the same girth as the wooden shaft of his shovel. His pair of sweaty, hairy bollocks, hanging tight beneath his fat shaft went the other half of the to explaining the bulge on his crotch Steve had been fixated with earlier. He had a pair of bollocks that wouldn't have been out of place on a mule, standing out proudly like a couple of heavy tomatoes. Steve pushed his thighs apart so he could get to them. He just about managed to grasp them, even with his large mitts. He gave him a hard squeeze, releasing him when he brought a grunt of discomfort. He gave his scrotum a good scratch. The growl from above told Steve he liked that. He could smell him strongly, hot, sweaty and musky, and it was making Steve want to spread his legs. He wondered what that thick cock would feel like up his arse, the lad banging into him, bouncing his big nuts against him. He was circumcised, and responded with a twitch as Steve ran his finger around the slightly ragged looking scar beneath his head. He felt hot and very hard, the flange of his dick smooth and rigid. The ache in Steve's cock had been sorted, but his prostate was feeling particularly itchy with this big hard lug standing in front of him. He hadn't been shafted in his arse for a long while, but he decided he wanted this lad up him. He pulled his cock toward him, leaned back and brought his legs up onto the bunk, spreading wide. The lad shuffled forward as Steve guided him by his cock, and rubbed his fat blunt cock head between his buttocks to indicate what he wanted.
"Come on mate," Steve muttered, "Fuck me up my arse." The workman nodded. Steve was chuffed. Not all men would go for anal, even if they didn't object to a bit of a rummage with another bloke. The workman hurriedly reached back into the pocket of his donkey jacket and poked about, screwing his face up until he found what he wanted. He came back with a Durex Extra Strong and started to tear into the foil with urgency. Steve was slightly surprised. The lad had obviously come prepared. He wondered if he'd done this before, keeping his eyes out for passing truckers, hoping to get picked up. He quickly tugged the greasy rubber down over his cock, grunting and struggling a bit to get it over his fat glans and stretch it over his thickness. Steve tried to relax his arse, realising it could be a bit of a struggle trying to get him in. The workman shuffled up and let Steve slip his hairy legs under his wet armpits, resting his calves on the seats behind them. The lad took a firm grip on Steve's waist under his sweater letting Steve relish the feel of his dirty hands on his skin. He spat into his hands a couple of times and slipped his fingers between the furry cheeks of Steve's arse, wiping spit onto his arsehole. The touch of his wet fingers against his hole brought a tingle of anticipation and Steve readied himself for a good rough fuck. The lad soon slipped his cock between Steve's buttocks and pushed against his tight ring piece. Steve gritted his teeth as the pain began to mount as the workmen pushed harder against his arsehole. Steve felt his rubber-covered head starting to split his anus, and with a powerful shove, he slipped through his sphincter deep into him. Steve wriggled against the sharp stabbing pain, and twisted a little to straighten his passage in line with the coming onslaught, puffing and panting until the tight pain eased and he slackened off, feeling the fat shaft up inside him, stretching him. The workman felt him ease and pulled back and thrust hard, impaling Steve with his prick. Grunting and snorting, he started banging into him hard, his narrow hips rubbing between Steve's splayed thighs.
He was thrusting hard and deep, leaving Steve uncomfortable but wanting more. Steve loved it, having a big, dirty bloke hammering away between his legs. Pity the rubber meant he wouldn't feel him empty into him, but he respected his wishes. Some blokes just didn't like getting their cock dirty. Steve opened his legs a little more, until he felt what he wanted, the lad's heavy balls smacking against his arse with his urgent mechanical thrusts and his furry, sweaty thighs slapping against his backside as he drove in. Steve enjoyed it face to face; letting him watch his expressions and grimaces, watch the sweat starting to drip down from his forehead. More by accident than skill, his latex coated cockhead was digging against Steve's prostate as he entered. It made him want to piss at first, but soon he found it was rapidly getting him hard again. The lad began puffing and grunting louder than before and the grimaces and occasional whimper told him he was about to shoot. Steve held still and let him really go to work, thrusting fast and frantic. His fingers dug deep into his waist, as he poked up him, Steve's arsehole starting to feel rather sore and tender as the lubricants rubbed out. Before the friction became to tight, Steve felt his thick stretching cock, harder yet, bucking and twitching down its length in his rectum. The workmen gave a loud snuffling whimper and an ecstatic moan as he shot his thick wad of spunk into the end of the rubber implanted deep in Steve's well-fucked rear end. He thrust a couple more times until his spurting ebbed and leaned back against the back of the seat behind him gasping, and looking at Steve with satisfied bewilderment. Steve felt his big, thick cock slip out, and he sighed with a slight feeling of disappointment, his stretched anus tingling with the loss. They both sat still for a moment, getting their breath back and sweating steadily.
The workman sheepishly grinned at Steve with appreciation as he slipped the dirty rubber off his softening prick. He tied a knot in the end a looked about for somewhere to get rid of it. The end of was full of fresh spunk. Steve could smell it clearly in the sweaty air inside the cab.
"Out the window mate," Steve suggested, pointing to the window. The workmen wound the passenger window down a crack and dropped his Durex out of the window. Steve heard a faint liquid splat as it hit the tarmac outside.
"Cheers for that, I really needed it tonight," the workman added.
"You weren't the only one." Steve replied with heart-felt honesty. Looking at the big sweating workman in front of him, with his pants around his ankles, his big balls swinging Steve found he was rapidly getting stiff again. He started rubbing his fingers gently up and down his shaft, before slipping his foreskin back and forth over his cock head as the workman watched him wanking.
"You ready to go again?" he asked, starting to play with his own cock.
"Aye, I reckon so," replied Steve, his cock rapidly reaching full erection again, despite having shot his load a few minutes before. Getting fucked in the arse always got him in the mood for more.
"You can fuck me if you want," suggested the workman, actually looking hopefully at Steve. Steve grinned wickedly. He'd wanted to fuck his arse from the moment he seen it. The lad reached into his jacket again and chucked a new Durex over to Steve, landing on his sleeping bag next to him.
"All right then mate, it's going to be doggy style for you. Bend over the back of the driver's seat." Steve grunted. The workman looked at Steve, his brow furrowed with slight apprehension, but he turned round without complaint, shuffling a bit with his dirty trousers and pants caught up around his ankles. He bent over as instructed, propping himself up with his arms, his hands resting on the seat, his arse positioned high up in front of Steve.
The workman held still, his arse poised, quiet with a little trepidation, unable to see what Steve was going to do to him. Steve simply sat back enjoying the view as he gently teased his own large shaft with his fingers, leaning back on the bunk. He watched his cock straining at its full length, feeling the skin tightening as he felt its hardness. Looking at the firm inviting crack waiting patiently for a shafting in front of him was helping in no small way. The lad had a great arse. The backs of his thighs were stout and covered in swirls of brown fuzz, but his arse was quite smooth by contrast. He had a few pimples on his arse cheeks, and a light line of blondish brown fur down his cleavage. His buttocks looked particularly round and muscled, inviting him in. Steve wasn't sure whether the lad had taken it up his arse before, but decided on giving him a screwing he'd remember. Steve glanced down proudly at his bulging eight inches. He certainly had plenty to take. Steve let go of his dick and rummaged in his rucksack wedged in under the bunk. The workman glanced nervously over his shoulder wondering what Steve was up to.
"What's up mate? Aren't you going to fuck us then?" he asked.
"Course I fucking am. Just trying to find something to ease you open." Steve suddenly found what he was after, his small tube of KY Jelly that he kept around just in case. It was the first time he'd actually needed it. He waved it at the lad, who nodded understanding, and turned his back round, staring at the steering wheel, waiting for Steve to get started on him.
Steve ran his hand over the workman's firm backside, feeling the smooth round mounds, gently squeezing and starting to probe his crack with his blunt thick fingers. The lad grunted appreciatively. Steve ran his hand between his legs and grabbed his big balls tightly from behind, enjoying the startled gasp from the workman. Steve rolled his bollocks in his palm, feeling their weight. The lad had a great pair of knackers. He reached a little further forward, gently tickling the underside of his swinging cock, before teasing the smooth pink head. The lad sighed with pleasure, and Steve's gentle brushing touch soon raised his erection. Steve pulled his hand back over his damp bollocks, enjoying one last play with his swinging plums. He ran his fingers over his scrotum, heading up toward his arsehole. He pushed his hands between his hairy thighs, and pushed apart, forcing him to shuffle his legs wide. The movement opened his crack up a little more. Steve spotted his target after squinting a little under the dim interior light. His arsehole winked at him from the bottom of his crack, ringed by a few tufty hairs. Steve unscrewed the cap from his tube of KY, enjoying the cold wet lubricant spreading over his fingers. With a glob of liquid on the tip of his finger, he pushed it gently between the lad's warm, sweaty arse cheeks, and wiped it onto his small hole. He slipped the tip of the tube between his cheeks, up to his hole and squeezed a large squirt of lubricant. Steve could tell from the way the lad wriggled his butt appreciatively that he was enjoying the sensation. Steve decided to get on with business. He leaned in a little closer and started to push his finger into the lad's arsehole. The lubricant eased him, and he slipped in up to the knuckle, listening to the deep groan from the workman and accompanying wriggle of his arse. He was tight but felt hot and velvety smooth inside. Steve pulled out and started pushing back in with two fingers this time, the strong muscles of his ring fighting the intrusions as he grunted uncomfortably.
"Come on mate," advised Steve. "Relax your rear end a bit. I'm not going to hurt you."
He seemed to take Steve advice, and soon began to enjoy the feeling of Steve's KY slicked fingers sliding in and out of his bum. Steve pushed in up to his hairy knuckle each time. He held his fingers deep inside and curled his fingers a little, prodding at the smooth interior of his rectum until he found the walnut sized lump of his prostate. He rubbed the area, and the moaning he was rewarded with told him he was hitting the right spot.
"Come on mate, fuck me." He pleaded. "I need more than that. Get your fucking cock in there!" Steve was just about ready. His cock was throbbing and aching for release, needing to be plugged deep into the slackening hole he was playing about with. Steve enjoyed how smooth he was inside and was tempted to forget about wearing the rubber. The lad's arse felt good against his fingers. His cock would really enjoy the feel of his hot lubricated tunnel. Still, he decided to respect his wishes.
"Right then mate," Steve panted. "Time for a shafting." He tore open the foil of the Durex, careful not to rip the rolled rubber. He fumbled around a bit, making sure his foreskin was back, until he slipped it over the exposed head of his cock and slowly unrolled the greasy latex down his prick. He enjoyed the feeling in a way. It felt tight and snug, gripping every square inch of him, just like the workman's arse would soon be doing. Steve ran out of rubber about an inch from the base of his cock, but he didn't think it would matter. They just didn't seem to have blokes his size in mind when they made the things. He smeared a last generous squeeze of KY over his sheathed cock head, feeling the ridge of his cockhead beneath the latex. Steve shuffled to his feet and took a firm hold on the lad's hips, positioning himself ready to impale him. He lined his cock up with his best guess at the position of the lad's tradesman's entrance and slipped his hungry twitching prick between his warm buttocks. He felt himself bump into his arsehole and gripped him tight. He felt wet under his palms, and he could smell the lad's sweaty apprehension and see it dampening his armpits and darkening the material of his shirt rucked up over the bottom of his back. The workman wriggled a little, probably tiring to get Steve better lined up with his target.
"Keep fucking still" Steve warned him. "Just take it easy and enjoy it," he concluded. He wanted to give him a good hard shafting and didn't want him wriggling about too much, putting him off his stroke. Steve abruptly pushed through his tight slick arsehole and barged deep into him with one mighty thrust, feeling his sphincter resist then suddenly give, letting him slide every inch of his cock deep into him, bringing a muffled scream of surprise and pain. Steve ignored his whimpering and moans and roughly forced himself in again. His arse felt great, hot, and very tight, but well enough lubricated to take him all easily. The fingered had relaxed him enough for him to fuck him hard from the start. Steve thrust against viciously, getting in deeper still, his hips pressing flat against his backside, with his full hard length inside him and his balls nudging up against the workman's own. He felt slightly guilty about fucking his so roughly, but he was enjoying his arsehole too much to hold back. Steve started thrusting vigorously, pushing deep in and slapping his thighs up against the back of the workman's. He was gritting his teeth and groaning, gripping the passenger seat hard as the pain in his arse lessened and he got accustomed to Steve plunging rubbered cock. Steve started to grunt and sweat, making their thighs slippery as they rubbed together. Steve loved every minute, glad that his earlier orgasm was enabling him to keep it going for a bit. He quickened his pace, grateful for the lad's arse being tight enough to compensate for thickness of the condom. He could feel the KY squelching a little each time he penetrated him, and the excess lubricant, smearing onto his bollocks. Steve briefly ran a hand up the lad's hairy thigh, curling round to rub up the tense insides until he found his balls, drawn up tight with arousal. Steve found his thick cock and grabbed it tightly with his hand. The workman was rock hard and Steve felt the moistness of more pre come around the tip of his prick he stoked down the shaft, enjoying the grunt it brought and the slight arching of the lads back. Steve began to slip the fat piece meat in and out of his fist, encircling its girth with his hand. He wanked him in time with his thrusts, feeling him push forward into his fist before pushing his arse back to take his cock. Steve rubbed a little longer, then let go, concentrating on his fuck. The lad quickly spat into his hand and continued to wank himself as Steve fucked him, quickly stroking back and forth, moaning with the pleasure he was getting from both ends. Steve held the sides of arse, and lifted his backside up a bit so he could really let him have it. He was determined to make the dirty fucker as sore as hell before he'd finished buggering him. The inside of the cab starting to smell particularly sweaty and seminal and Steve noticed the windscreen misting up through a chink in the curtains.
"Come on mate, fuck me harder, I can take more than that" growled the workman through gritted teeth as he continued wanking, the tension in his body indicating he was near to bringing himself off. Steve obliged him with pleasure, pulling his greasy rubber sheathed cock out until he glanced into his hot crack and saw just the head still embedded in his anus. He pushed in hard and deep, ramming forward with his hips and mashing the lad into the back of the drivers seat, trying to drive his cock farther up him than he'd managed yet. He continued shafting him with rough, brutal, deep strokes, grunting noisily. The workman was grunting with equal enthusiasm, sweat dripping from his brow and pattering onto the synthetic material of Steve's driver's seat. The lad's large muscular body soon tensed more as he wanked faster and faster then cried out loudly as came again, firing out several sloppy wet spurts of semen, shooting a couple of feet in from of him and splattering over the dashboard, with a final spurt of sticky fluid hitting the steering wheel. His orgasm shuddered through his whole body, and Steve felt his arse passage spasm, the walls of his rectum gripping tighter and his butt checks clenching. The added friction and the smell of the lads freshly shot spunk brought Steve's own climax on. Steve let out a strained bellow, sticking his cock right up the lads arse as he felt himself throbbing and spurting, blowing his muck into the end of the rubber implanted deeply up the workman's backside. Steve thrust viciously a few more times, until his spurts finished, and relaxed, feeling warm and satisfied. With his cock still in, he leaned over, resting on the workman's back, letting his cock slowly soften in his arse, Still breathing heavily, he slowly pulled out, holding the rubber in place around his shaft. The workman yelped as he finally slipped free from his sore arsehole, his anal lips slightly swollen with the continued ploughing Steve had just given him.
The lad shuffled round, breathless and sweaty, to see an equally sweaty and grinning Steve snapping the used rubber off the end of his softening cock.
"Bloody hell, mate. You drivers don't believe in doing' it gentle do you?" he commented, digging his fingers into his crack to rub some relief into his aching hole. He used the tail of his shirt to wipe up some of the excess KY before he pulled up his underpants and tucked his balls in, before yanking his filthy orange trousers up over his hairy thighs. Steve chucked his rubber out of the window, after noticing proudly he'd still managed to fill it with a good volume of muck, despite it being his second climax within twenty minutes.
Steve pulled up his own jeans and started to buckle his belt, satisfied, but tired and ready to get some rest at last. The workman was still leaning around, sheepish and uncertain what to do with himself.
"Come on mate, you've had your lot now. Clear out of my lorry so I can get some kip." Steve commented bluntly. The bloke had been great despunking company, but now he'd fucked him, he needed his snooze. Steve was eagerly anticipating a rest and looking forward to a good greasy breakfast before making his drop the next morning. The workman slipped his donkey jacket back on, and rummaged briefly in his pocket to pull out his tabs. Instead on lighting up, pulled out the last one and stuck it behind his ear.
"Got a pen?" he asked.
"Top of the dashboard." Replied Steve, curious. The lad found Steve's pen, giving another opportunity to admire the arse he'd just fucked as he leaned over the seat. He scrawled on his pack with large semi illiterate letters. He handed it to Steve.
"Phone number." He explained when he saw Steve bemused expression. Steve noticed he was still looking at his crotch.
"In case your ever passing through this way again." Steve's incredulous expression said all the lad needed to know. He didn't bother sticking around, but picked up his orange hard hat, flask, and sarnie box, winked Steve goodbye and climbed out, slamming the passenger door behind him.
Note
The story continues straight on in "Heavy Haulage 3 - Community Policing." Unfortunately, the whole story was too large to post together!
If you have any comments or criticisms, or any similar stories to share, I'd love to hear from you.
My e-mail address is as follows: furryfranks_email@yahoo.co.uk