THE STAR TRUCKER'S CREED
By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM
"B-rahhhhhh-a-a-a-ah!" Dan belched and set down the beer, looked out the window at the stars. Lots of stars to see, for Dan was at the control of a spaceship.
He lounged back in front of the control console of his Galactic Shipper ship, one foot resting on the console and the other on the floor. One hand held an ice-cold can of Cborg beer, and the other held a cigar made from the finest Novo Martian tobacco. New Mars was a crappy planet to live on, but damn they raised some fine tobacco in their northern temperate zone. Lousy for people, great for tobacco.
He took a large slug out of his beer can, finishing it, and gave a contented belch. Truckers used to not dare drink while on the job, they had to pull over for the night and get a motel room and shit. Him, he could drink much as he wanted, for the ship did all the flying for over 80% of the trip. He didn't have to do a fucking thing for the next 36 hours, barring something like a blip on the screen.
"Doo-doot!" came the sound. The "attention" signal from the proximity radar, something was holding a steady bearing, it was heading for his ship. Shit, there WAS something out there. Well, it was why he was on the ship instead of it floating along with only a robot pilot, he could look at what was coming too close and decide what to do about it where a robot would simply hold its course and maybe get itself smashed.
Dan leaned forward, stared bleary-eyed at the signal. Too small to be another ship. Too small to be much of a hazard, in fact. Unless the blip was jagged and hit the exact right way, it would just bounce off the ship's hull, leaving a nasty dent, but nothing worse. Of course, it might hit the right way (wrong way), which was why the blip signal triggered.
His hands went over the console, the touch screen let him enlarge and enhance the image. An odd symmetry there. He went to visual and enlarged the screen to maximum.
"Ah, hell!" he said. "That's somebody. Or used to be!" The odds of finding a person floating in space that was alive was so close to nil as to be on a first-name basis with it. On the other hand, the odds of finding someone who'd died in space a month or a year or a hundred thousand years ago were pretty good, after all, in space, nothing ever goes away, it's like being vacuum-packed for eternity. So he had himself a mummy.
Problem was, he had to fetch it inside his vessel, be sure it was dead. Theory said you might rescue someone this way.
So he set his ship's computer to change course enough to let this errant humanoid enter his open air-lock. Nice thing about outer space is that a trajectory could be computed to the umpteenth decimal without worrying about gravity or air friction changing it. The course of the figure was set as if in stone, it was just a matter of making sure the open airlock intersected that course at the right moment. An instant of rocket firing to slow him down a tad, a light spin that was stopped after two seconds, and the space-suited figure went right into his airlock, which closed after him.
Dan turned on the vision screen for the airlock, figured he'd see the dried-out-mummy and be done with it. After all, lots of people and other sentients died in space, there was no reason...
"Son of a bitch!" he said in wonder. The being was stirring, standing up. Shit, he'd fucking done it! Rescued a stranded spaceman who was still alive! Fucking A! He'd be famous for that! Televid conferences, computer websites devoted to him and his life!
The being took off his helmet. Well, okay, not a human. Close enough, though. It was still good. Human being rescues a...hey, that was a Vittamotch! That golden body of his shone like he was built of liquid metal. No hair (or clothing!) broke up the clean lines of his body, the Vittamotchee (plural form) were all hairless beings, with a body that was human enough to have scientists debating the theories of panspermia and converging evolution fiercely. Did the Vittamotchee resemble Mankind because the two had a common ancestry among the proto-amino acids in the galactic clouds, or because a planet and ecological niche required a certain form and shape and function? And how the fuck would you ever find out which was right?
No matter. Dan hitch the unlock switch to the airlock and the Vittamotch walked into his tiny, cramped cabin. Shit, if this had been a human youth, he would have been one of those pretty boys who lingered on the beach sands with their bodies displayed and toasted by the sun, only to rise up and play with careless abandon in the surf and the sand and the cooly caressing ocean breezes. "Hello, there!" Dan said.
"Nee mako fonoxte." the alien returned. His version of hello, no doubt. Then he pulled out a translating machine, fiddled with it, and then said that again, and the machine said, "Thank you for permitting me access."
"So what the hell were you doing out there?" Dan asked, and the machine spouted some garble in Vittamotchese.
The alien spoke and continued speaking as the machine began translating. "I am grateful you were passing nearby. I was traveling with my family en route to Mizak-12 and I jumped from my ship toward yours. I hoped I was traveling on an intercept course and would be picked up, but I couldn't be certain. It was a great risk."
"So why the fuck did you do it?" Dan said suspicously. This was sounding less and less like a photo opportunity and more like getting mixed up in politics. Not a good idea for an interstellar trucker. A suspicion formed in his brain, and he said, "Good God! Don't tell me you're a member of the royal family?"
And sure enough, the Vittamotch nodded, a common gesture the two species held.
"My father had arranged for my marriage to a member of the Mikozakak governing family, and I was to be married to seal a treaty. But I did not wish to be married to the female they had selected. So I have fled."
Dan sighed. "Shit-damn-fire-hell!" he grunted in disgust. "Do you know who I am? What I am?"
"A ship captain?"
"Captain, hell! I'm a star trucker. I haul freight from one world to the next, live my life in the starlanes. I'm part of a human tradition that goes all the way back to our earliest civilization. The jobs change, the way he haul freight changes, but not us. From poling goods on a raft across a river, to driving a wagon pulled by twelve mules to steering a diesel-powered rig on one of the old highways, we're truckers, the same as ever. We star truckers live by a simple creed: we travel, we haul good from one place to another, we earn our pay and when we're done, we have a bit of fun...and we keep our nose out of everyone else's business when we do it!"
"But you cannot send me back!" the alien pleaded.
"Like hell I can't, you...you...what the hell is your name, anyhow?"
"I am Nitchimanawa." the alien said. "I am the fifth Prince of the Eastern lands of Rezokoranuk. Please, you cannot condemn me to live as the consort of the Empress Honatepleten!"
"Well, Nitch." Dan shortened the alien's name. "You may not want to be the loverboy of that Empress Honeypot, but that's your problem, not mine. Mine is figuring out how to get you back to them and still keep my schedule. I'm supposed to be at Krekrel-6 by mid-morning of the day after tomorrow and in case you hadn't noticed, this ship isn't exactly built for speed!"
"I implore you, kind sir, to reconsider." Nitch said to him. "I could not bear sharing the Empress' bed. I...I care nothing for the female of my species, I only want the male of my species. Can you understand that, or must I explain more?"
"No, I understand you. You're telling me you're a Vittamotchee fruitcake, is what you're telling me."
"That did not translate." the alien said. "You compared me to a sweetened bakery item?"
"I said you were a pansy!"
"A flower?"
"No, a fairy!"
"A mythical creature?"
"A faggot."
"A piece of wood for burning on a fire?"
"No, no! Criminy!" He couldn't even insult this guy! "You're a..." Shit, what word could he use? "You're a homosexual." That ought to work. Though it didn't insult.
"Yes, that is true." the alien prince said.
"Why would I want a royal alien shit-licker to ride with me anywhere?" Dan said.
The alien was silent for a short time, that term must have translated! "You seek a reason for me to share your ship." the prince said, either missing or ignoring the insult. "I fled my own ship with nothing. I have nothing to offer but myself."
"Figures a queer boy like you would want to suck a trucker's dick!" Dan scoffed. "They always do!"
"You have met others like myself then?"
"All the fucking time, at every spaceport where I go. Can't go in the crapper without one of them leaning over to check out my equipment!"
"Then you can take me to where others of my kind live and thrive." the alien said. "Pray, take me there."
"What's in it for me?" Dan asked.
"Would you like for me to stimulate your penis with my mouth for you?" the alien offered.
"Would I?" Dan started to sneer, then stopped. Hell, that would make a story to tell, now wouldn't it, him getting a hummer from a golden queer alien while on the long haul? "Well, now, that all depends." he said, and he reached down and undid his pants' tie (he favored simple, loose clothing, just like they'd worn on Earth for centuries) and pulled out his whanger. "Here's ten inches of trucker meat for you. What can you do with it that'd be worth me giving you a ride to a place where all the gay boys hang out?"
"I will stimulate it for you." the alien said. "I understand that it is not that different from my own species' method of sexual stimulation."
"I'll be the judge of that." Dan said. "Let's see you chow on down, Your Royal Cocksuckerness!" And he guffawed at his own joke.
The alien got onto the floor and between Dan's legs. From there, he looked much like any bald-headed human would look...so long as you ignored the gold skin and the pointed ears. Dan could ignore that, if... "Oh, God!" he gasped. His Royal Suckness had just sent Dan's prong down his throat, and that was all the way, the very first time. The Vittamotchee must have bigger throats than humans, because the fit was damned good! No bending or scrunching or squishing of his rod, that which had caused many a good stiff one to give up and go flat, this time, it was like he had laid his dick inside a form-fitting mold for shipment to the land of love!
Then Nitch began to work his cock, and that was without any awkward bobbling of his head. Those muscles in his throat was very athletic, and they seemed to be under his direct control, for with Nitch holding Dan's cock all the way down, Dan felt his prick being worked and stripped down in a way that the most talented hooker with a squeezing pussy would be hard-pressed to keep up with!
"Oh, oh, shit!" Dan moaned as the rippling throat muscles massaged his dong into a blaze of glory. "Ah, ah, crap, fuck, hell, shit!"
The alien's hands reached up to slide under Dan's shirt, a loose sweater, and Dan shucked it off quickly as soon as he realized. Those golden fingers found his nipples and were they going to squeeze him, make him groan in pain so mixed with joy that he couldn't tell them apart?
The fingers on his tits...vibrated. No pinching, no tweaking, just the ecstatic manipulation of his nipples until they sang in joy!
"Aw, fuck, aw, fuck!" Dan groaned. "Shit, keep doing that, fuck, yeah, fucking great, just fucking great!"
The alien held onto Dan's manhood with the vise of his maw and kept rippling those wonder tonsils of his while the alien's fingers made short work of Dan's boots. They were modern things, and as such, a simple magnetic clasp, once pressed, undid them so they came off easily. When they were gone, Dan's socks and pants soon followed, and then he was as naked as the alien.
Dan let the alien do it, figured the young horn-dog wanted to take a look at a real man's body. He just lay there and sighed as his cock was rubbed by Nitch's moist interior until his dick threatened to explode from the good-feeling it had. "Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck." he gasped. "Fucking great, really fucking great, fuck, yeah, fuck!"
And the alien's finger had the audacity to seek out and poke it's tip into Dan's anus! Dan gasped as the blunt-tipped intruder dared to poke into the tender flesh of the sphincter, and as it gave way slightly, Dan yelped, "Fuck, what the fuck?"
Then the finger vibrated and his asshole just giggled like a schoolgirl and let the finger slide right on in! Dan's body had betrayed him, he was now impaled on a royal digit and it was poking around inside him like it belonged there, and...shit, it found his prostate! "Aw, man, awwww, man!" he guttered. "Fuck, shit, God damn you, how the fuck do you do that?"
He had never felt such an intenseness before. He'd had his prostate checked by a doctor when he took the physical to get this job, the doc had slid a finger up there all greased up and that had been an uncomfortable and humiliating thing. When the doctor had felt his prostate, that had the bare echoes of a pleasure to be had, not enough to turn him in a dick-diver! But this! It was a million times better than that doctor's fingers had been, this one finger was making his whole ass-centered world come alive with electrical exuberance!
"Ah, fuck, crap, fuck, shit, fuck!" Dan moaned. "What the fuck are you doing to me?"
"I am doing as you asked." Nitch said to him as though it were obvious. "I am going to sexually stimulate you by inserting my male organ into your anus."
"You're going to what?"
"I'm going to fuck you."
"Like hell you are! Ah, ah, shit!" Dan felt helpless, the ecstasy of that finger in his butt was just too much to refuse. "God damn it, hurry up then! Fuck, nobody better find our about this!"
"I will tell no one." Prince Nitchi-Bitch said to Dan and he grunted in frustration. Would this golden man slide a golden glory of gay pud into Dan's butt, or would he be more like having a baseball bat shoved up there?
"You'd better not." Dan panted. "God, hurry up, I need more of that, your dick better work as good as your finger did, or I'm going to want it back in there instead!"
"I can do it as well." the prince assured him, and Dan quit even pretending to struggle at that. That golden glans kissed his anus and Dan's body swung wide the doors to let him in.
And with the magnificence of a royal procession, the glittering prick entered him. Dan just moaned as the majestic cock slid inside him, and the vibrating he had been promised was there, there and then some. Think of a vibrator that could actually know where and how hard to press against you to allow maximum delight, and you would have a glimpse of the paradise where Dan's soul now dwelled!
Inside, the cock stopped and the wonder remained. Dan wanted this to go on forever, his cock, though, had more urgent plans, and he screamed his climax to the galaxy as he sprayed profusely all over himself and the cabin's interior. Done, he sagged, gasping, and then as he recovered, he realized that Nitch hadn't withdrawn, he was still urging Dan's body to rejoin him in delight, to one again ride the crest of this wave of orgasm, and Dan's body shiveringly eager, crept upward and clambered towards the height of ecstasy once again.
Dan learned one thing about the Vittamotchee that day. When they decided to fuck your ass, they didn't kid around with half measures. He lay on his work chair with a royal, golden sceptre of manhood inside him, and he was given hours and hours of incredible delight, this alien brought him to his height over and over, he ejaculated and collapsed and rose once again, and even when his seed was reduced to a dribble, still his body soared with the massive flying fortress-birds of New Armenia, and he was a bit of human flotsam adrift in the seas of sensuality, wave after wave overwhelming him, but never, never sinking him.
He didn't know if Nitch ever came or not. He wouldn't have heard it in his sex-saturated state, and didn't much care, frankly. Long as he got off (and off and off and oh, God, off again), that was enough for him. But the time finally came when the golden form relinquished him and stood up. "Have I pleased you well?"
"Uh. Oh, God yeah, God, fuck, yeah!" Dan sobbed.
"Have I pleased you well enough to be given a ride to the places of whom you have spoken?"
"Sure, sure." Dan said. "I'm going to want another dose of that tomorrow, though. A man could get downright attached to being fucked that much."
"It is why the Empress wanted me." Nitch said. "But it is not a gift I would give to her. I am pleased to give it to you instead, though the denial of my body to her may well cause her to start a war with my world."
"Hmph, I can't say as I'd blame her for that, if she was waiting for that much pussy-banging and got diddley-squat instead." Dan mused. "Still, we'd better get you far away from her."
"How far can I get?" Nitch wanted to know.
"I get to Mizak-12, I'll pick up a load for further out." Dan said. "You can ride with me for as far as I can get you. You can be with me, for, oh, weeks, yet. If you don't mind staying aboard the ship until we get clear."
"I will be pleased to remain with you and serve you as you help me flee the Empress." Nitch agreed.
"Yeah." Dan said. He wondered how long he could wangle this, always telling this golden stud that the next world might be safe, always the next world, not yet, stay aboard ship a little longer. And as long as he was aboard Dan's ship, he could damned well put out for Dan as much as Dan wanted. All part of the creed of the star truckers!
Or as the 20th Century truckers had been fond of putting it: Ass, gas or grass...no free rides!
THE END
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E-mail the Author at Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM