This is the fictional memoir of a gay man, told in the first person. The memoir began with the series C'est La Vie!, which covers the years 1970-1997. This series covers the year the narrator turns 40, 1998, and launches an ambitious project to have sex with 1000 men that year. Some of the stories in this series are based on actual experiences, usually embellished a lot, as well as completely fictional ones. They depict sex between consenting adult males. If this offends you, do not read them. These are my stories. Please respect the copyright. If you enjoy them, let me know at johntheartist@hotmail.com. Please Contribute to Nifty.org and keep this wonderful resource going!
In the last chapter I told how I continued my time at the Steamworks baths after midnight and then met a hot 18-year-old boy, Ian, making love with him a couple of hours until we decided to leave and go home to his place. I hung out with him the following day and we returned to the Steamworks for the evening, and then another night together before I had to leave the following morning to continue my trip west.
1000 Men: 1998 IOWA REST STOP ENCOUNTER
I was back in the car with the solitude I love.
After leaving the Chicago sprawl, the countryside was the flat farmland of northern Illinois, ready to be planted with corn and soybeans in the next month or so. I like seeing new things, and they don't have to be the most dramatic landscapes either. I am perfectly satisfied to cruise along, looking at the ever-changing clouds, the small towns and looking at the trucks I pass or that pass me. I saw a lot of long-distance 18-wheelers with sleeper cabs, and wondered how many of them had hosted other men when they were parked overnight.
The day seemed to fly by. I took a couple of detours off the interstate to see some sights that I had looked up before leaving Philly. I had an early lunch in the Quad Cities when I got to the Mississippi River. I rejoined I-80 at Moline and I crossed into Iowa and headed west across the state. I was thinking about some of the rest areas and truck stops that my trucker hookup in the motel had listed for me. I knew that some of the rest stops could be problematic if there were attendants there, and so I did not want to try my luck too early.
Late in the afternoon, I pulled into one of the last rest stops on I-80 in Iowa. I had been told that I might find some hot action there, but that it could be hit-or-miss. I figured "What the hell?" I had had a good score in Chicago as well as a wonderful time with Ian, so if I came up empty, it was no big deal.
Just around 5 PM I pulled into the rest stop. As I pulled in, I could see the attendant in his state-owned pick-up leaving. That was a good sign. I headed down to the end of the parking area beyond the restrooms. Most cars pulled into the rest stop and parked as close to the rest rooms as possible, so there were not any cars where I was. I pulled into the second from the last spot and sat in the car for a little. There was another car a few spaces to my right.
I really did need to piss, so I got out and headed into the bathrooms. There were several men there and a guy with a couple of young kids. I did my business and headed out again to the car. As I walked to my car, I saw a man who looked to be in his early 30s sitting at one of the picnic tables looking at a magazine. As he turned the pages, I thought that I recognized, from a distance of 40 feet or so, the distinctive layout of one of the popular gay porn mags that I knew.
I looked at him as I passed, and he held my gaze for a moment too long. I realized that I might have a prospect here for a little late-afternoon pleasure. When I got to the car, I looked at him again, and he was still looking in my direction. I stood next to the car and pulled off my T-shirt. That did not seem so strange since it was an unseasonably warm day, and anyone might have done that, but his eyes were riveted to me as I stripped to my bare chest. I briefly ran my hand over my chest, then opened the door of the car, and got in, reclining the seat into what is sometimes called the "jerk-off" position.
I lay back in the seat, and rubbed my chest, then lowered my hand and opened up the button on my jeans, and pulled the zipper down a little. In the restroom, I had gone into one of the stalls and taken off my underwear, so I was naked under my jeans. I looked back at the man on the bench, and he was still looking at me. I lay back and moved my arm as if I were jacking off, and looked at him. He was looking more and more intensely at me, and after a minute or two, he got up, folded his magazine and headed toward me. I could see a noticeable bulge in his pants as he came around to the driver's side of the car.
"What's happenin', man?" he said. He looked into the window and could see my muscled torso reclining, and my jeans open provocatively with clearly no underwear underneath.
I said, "I've been driving a long way and I have a big load on my mind," and while I said that, I grabbed my crotch provocatively. Corny pickup line, but so what?
"I think I could help you out there," the man said.
"I could sure use some help," I said, "why don't you come around and get in?"
He walked around to the passenger door and got in the car. Most of the other cars had left the parking lot by now, and as they drove past, they could only get a glimpse of the back of our heads. He sat on the seat next to me, his erection clearly showing in his pants. I took one of his hands and put it on my chest and then moved it slowly down my abs.
"Hot body," he said softly as he felt my stomach and moved closer to the prize below.
"Oh, yeah, that feels so good after my long drive," I said.
He moved his hand down under my zipper to feel my hard cock, and when he grasped it, he took a second or two to unzip me all the way. I lifted my hips and he pushed my jeans down around my thighs, revealing my hard cock standing up straight and proud.
"About that heavy loadÉ." I said, and he leaned over and kissed the tip, licked around the head and then took me into his mouth, slowly plunging all the way down to my balls.
He sucked me while I kept a lookout on the scene outside. There was nothing to worry about now. There were few people and they were all staying toward the other end of the parking lot. Bending down over my cock, no one could see the man next to me. It was just my cock-sucking partner and me here enjoying a little late-afternoon fun.
As he sucked, I reached over and unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his pants, and unzipped them. He helped me out a little, and after a short time, I had fished his hard cock out of his pants and was working it as he sucked me. First I just teasingly moved my fingertips around the head and lightly down the shaft, but he moaned in frustration, and so I quickly moved to start stroking his cock in time to his sucking.
He would suck a little faster and harder, and I, in response, would match his rhythm with my hand. I doubted that I would cum, after all my climaxes in the last day, but it looked like my friend might enjoy a climax before too long. We had been in the car for only about ten minutes or so, and his sucking was getting more and more intense, and he was pumping his hips into my fist. I knew that he was going to shoot before too long, and sure enough, a minute later he moaned loudly and shoved his cock into my fist. I moved my hand over it, and he started shooting a big load into my cupped palm.
When he was done shooting, he kept sucking me, but with less intensity. I pulled him off my cock and held my cupped palm up to him and said "Here, enjoy a snack," and with that, he lapped up his own cum.
We sat in the car for a few more minutes, winding down and pulling our pants back up. I wished him good luck, and he did the same to me. I pulled my T-shirt back on and drove out, heading west for a few more hours before stopping for the night.