Thank You Iowa Lew!
That Iowa Boy
By: Rick Beck
Featuring Joe Buck, trucker extraordinaire’
When you drive the big rigs, there are a few things you learn which are invaluable. First, you want to know where the good food is. If you're out on the road 24/7, you want to put something good into your belly at mealtime, and that might only be once a day. There is nothing worse than rolling into a place after driving ten hours straight and having a waitress snuggle up to your table with something you can't identify by look or taste. That's the kind of meal that keeps on giving long after you've left the state. It only takes a single stop at a choke & puke to mark it off your dance card.
On the other hand, when you take a booth and the waitress puts a plate in front of you that makes you want seconds and a doggie bag to boot, that's a place you remember. When I start a coast to coast run, I know where I'm going to be eating most every meal -- even before my tires start to roll.
The best bargain is a stop where you can get cheap fuel and good food. It’s a combination hard to beat if you’re on the road all the time. It’s not always an easy combination to locate, but you keep your eyes open, and once you’ve found that combination, you remember where it’s at.
You can't ever overestimate the value of a good cup of coffee. There's some pretty rank cups of Joe out there if you aren't careful. My best advice on coffee is: if it smells and tastes like diesel... pass on it. Me, I like it hot, black, and smooth. Surprisingly, I've found that McDonald's has one of the most consistent cups in the country. When I can get cheap fuel close by a freeway exit and a Mickey D's, I'm in hog heaven.
Now, inside the truck, it's a different story. When a driver picks out his vehicle of choice, the first thing he tried on is the Air-Ride Seat. You make sure it has all the bells and whistles so you can change its positions as often as you like, and it really is like riding on air. Believe me, when you drive ten hours without a break, you need all the comfort you can get. All the gauges, levers, and switches are within easy reach, and nothing requires work for you to get to it. The passenger seat is just a bench-type seat you might find in any pickup. It’s not exactly easy on your ass, nor is it built for comfort, but it’s better than sitting on a rock, I guess. I never heard any complaints from the guys that sat next to me, but they could move around and change positions as often as they liked.
These are the basics you learn early on when you're out there, day-in and day-out. I suppose most drivers look for the prettiest waitress -- and the easiest, for when they don’t have the time for romance.
For me, it's the diesel jockey, the wash attendant, or tire change guy that gets my pulse racing. When you're out there all the time, when you need service on the rig, you get it some place where the scenery is easy on the eye. I make mental notes whenever I find a guy I fancied, even if all I got out of it was being able to watch his body as he moved around my truck. Sometimes, a little eye candy is all I need to help make the day go by faster.
The mid-west was always out-front when it came to furnishing the largest supply of healthy-looking guys. Like with the food and the coffee, I always knew ahead of time which guys I hoped to see once my destination was known. Some stops got gold stars, and others were just stand-bys until I could get to the gold-star stops. But I always left plenty of time to satisfy my need for companionship and the other necessities in a trucker's life.
The Iowa City Texaco Truck Stop was just off Interstate 80. I usually didn't like getting too far away from the highway because that eats up valuable time, but there was this guy, Keith, who fueled the trucks. I'd have driven in cross-town traffic to see him. For two years, he'd been there every time I'd stopped. That was maybe eight or ten times a year when you run coast to coast. Each time I came down that highway, I knew where I'd stop to fuel, eat, and get service. Luckily, the food wasn't bad. Usually, within a minute of pulling up to the pumps, he'd be coming out the door wearing a smile, along with an ample package that could stir up anyone's imagination.
I was a bit put off when Keith wasn't there this one day. I'd been looking forward to watching him work since my last stop for fuel. He usually wore the gray uniform shirt with his name on the front, with navy blue pants. I didn't care for the clothes because they hid too much of his body, but you couldn't hide the fact he was a well-proportioned boy. Every once in awhile, I'd caught him in faded jeans, and you know how a corn-fed Iowa boy looks in skintight jeans. He filled up those jeans like he knew how to package himself for effect. I'd say they were left over from his high school days about ten or fifteen pounds ago, but he was still packing himself into them and I was glad he was.
Since the new guy who fueled my truck was of no particular interest to me, I took to wandering back along the service bays to see if Keith might be on break, or maybe doing one of the dirty little chores the mechanics didn't want to touch. He wasn't around. Disappointed, I parked my truck in the lot. I could have waited to Davenport and the row of truck stops along the highway just west of that city, but I'd stopped and I didn't want to stop again. I decided to go ahead and eat.
The restaurant was almost deserted, but the smell of fresh-cooked bacon was in the air. I was pleasantly surprised to discover that in the far corner of the truckers section sat Keith. I took the table directly in front of him and quickly noticed he looked upset, even though he looked as beautiful to me as ever. His hair was the color of summer wheat, and his wide shoulders fit his six-foot-two frame real well. His shirt lay open a couple of buttons down to show off his excellent chest and some light colored hairs. I remembered his narrow waist and the firm bubble-butt that filled out his pants so impressively. Even in his navy blue workpants, he had ample equipment to make it a nice display without it seeming like an invitation. He was a healthy boy, and seeing him in distress gave me an unpleasant feeling in my chest.
"Hi Keith. Missed you at the pumps," I said, attempting to find out if I could bring back that smile I was used to seeing. He looked up from staring down at his hands, folded in front of him. His eyes were so red, he'd obviously been crying. I felt even worse for intruding upon his privacy.
"Sorry. Don't work here any more," he said in a raspy voice, and then he casually cleared his throat.
I'd already gotten my coffee, so I took the cup with me as I moved to a seat at his table, facing him. "Mind if I sit down?" I said, in spite of the fact I was already seated.
"Help yourself," he said, without looking at my face. He tried to gather himself up and disguise the trouble he was having, but it was only a feeble effort.
I looked him in the eye, my face filled with concern. “I’ve never introduced myself but you’ve fueled my truck quite a few times. I’m Joe Buck,” I said, not bothering to offer him my hand on it. "I know when I see a man that needs to talk. In fact, I've never seen anyone in greater need. I'm just passing through, and I'll be moving on down the highway after dinner. I don't have much to offer, but I sure do listen good, Keith. I'd listen to you if you are up to talking about whatever’s eating on you."
Keith looked up and away from his big freckled hands, avoiding any eye contact with me. His eyes were filled to the brim, but the tears just hung on the lower lids. They were outlined in irritated pink flesh that told me he had shed his share of tears.
"I found out my girl Bonnie's screwin' my best friend." He spat out the words, angrily. "We were engaged, for Christssakes! I've been John's friend since elementary school. He's fuckin' the girl I was gonna marry."
"Jesus," I whispered, shaking my head. "What can I say, Keith? It'll pass. Love hurts. I've been there, and it sounds like about time you let this one head on down the highway."
He turned to me. "I know that. I quit the station. I'm gonna hit the road. I can't see 'em together. If I see that son-of-a-bitch, I'll kill him."
"That won't even make you feel better, and it'll create a whole 'nother set of problems for you," I said, shaking my head. "Leaving is the best idea. Get away for awhile. You'll find someone else. You'll forget her, and your anger."
"That's what I'm gonna do. I don't know where to go, though. I don't have any relatives. I live with my older sister. My car's ten years old and the tranny's trashed. I thought of Chicago -- that's not all that far, if I'm going to really get away."
I winced. "Bad idea, Keith. Don't go to Chicago. It’s a great town, loading with adventure and opportunity, but that’s not all there is."
"Why not? It sounds like what I’m looking for."
"It's a big city, Keith. You're a country boy. You couldn't keep up in a big city. You'll lose more than your heart in the city. Think smaller to start out."
"I've only got a few hundred bucks, and a car that won't make it three states. I don't know where to go," he said, looking into my eyes for the first time.
I thought for a moment. "You like to travel?" I asked.
"Sure, but... I don't know. I've never been out of Iowa."
"How'd you like a job that'll take you out of Iowa and away from this trouble you've got. You can see the country; get a taste of what you like. It doesn't pay a hell of a lot, but you'll get fed and you'll have a warm bunk to sleep in. It'll be a bit cramped, but it'll be better than you standing on the side of some highway in the middle of nowhere, with nowhere to go."
His eyes widened. "You mean you'd hire me on, just like that?" There was a bit of disbelief in his voice.
I nodded. "I'll hire you. You load and unload and you get eight bucks an hour when you're working. I don't pay just riding time. I pay your food and all expenses, within reason. That way, all you earn, you pocket. It won't be a lot, but it'll get you away from here, and you'll be safe," I said, staring into his green eyes. I hoped with as much warmth as I was feeling in my heart. "Take your time, Keith. Think about it. Think about what you were planning to do. It gives you an option you didn't have a few minutes ago."
He thought for a minute. "You just hired yourself a helper," he said, finally, with that patented smile I liked so much. "Lemme talk to Harold about keepin' my car for me. My bag's already packed. All I gotta do is put it in your truck."
I hesitated. "There's just one thing, Keith, and I'm telling you this now so there's no complications once we get on the road. I'll give you the job and you can help me for as long as you have the need, but we're gonna be together twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. The bunk is just 36" wide, so there isn't a whole lotta room. That means we live close."
"It's no problem for me,” he responded cheerfully. "If you can live in close quarters, I can. I been sleeping on my sister's couch for three years, and she's got three little kids."
"That's not the point I'm trying to make."
I put my hand on his arm to stop him before he moved away. Having gone this far, I had figured I might as well plunge ahead. "I'm gay, Keith," I said, lowering my voice. "I don't want any misunderstandings about it. It's not something I discuss with most people. Truckers pretty much keep to themselves, and they really don't want to know what you do with your prodder. But we'll be living in a tight space, and I don't want to start out lying to you about who I am. Especially not with the way you're hurting right now."
Keith looked at me closely. Tears no longer filled his eyes. He stared at me for a time without moving or saying a word. I could see the wheels turning. The waitress came toward us and I waved her away. Keith continued to stare until finally, a look of decisiveness appeared on his face.
"This job is a work job, right?" he said, haltingly. I could see he was searching for the words to express his feelings but trying to make sure they didn't hurt mine. "I mean, it isn't about you and me, uh, doin' shit..."
I shook my head. "It's not about us doing what you call 'shit.' The job's yours, Keith. I just want you to know the truth. I've got some books and things on the truck that you might run across. You know... dirty pictures. I wouldn't want you to get upset. That's all."
"Any hetero sex books there?" he asked, hopefully.
I grinned. "A little bit of everything. I just buy what appeals to me and whoever's on the truck at the time. Being on the road, it's nice to have backup."
He seemed relieved. "I don't care about the other thing. As long as it don't involve me, we're cool. I'm just not into that."
I slid out of the booth and stood up. "We're cool, then," I said. "I'm gonna get a sandwich to go. You get your bag and take it out to the front of the station. I'll meet you there before I go to the truck."
"Cool. Harold's gettin' me cash for what he owes me. I was gonna let them work on my car. I'll get my stuff and tell him I'm leavin'."
* * * * * *
Everything Keith was taking with him was in a gym bag. He traveled light, except for his mood. Across the first three hours, he talked about Bonnie incessantly. I thought I'd let him get it out of his system a while before telling him, enough is enough. He cried a couple of times, and that's when he got real quiet for a spell. Then I talked about trucking and where I'd been.
Keith slept in the front seat after we stopped at the 76 Truck Stop, close to the next day's delivery point. I lay there listening to the sounds of rumbling engines for a few minutes, I could never figure out why guys ran their trucks all night. I was sure these were company trucks, because drivers who paid for their own fuel weren’t going to run out a gallon an hour listening to the engine run. It also added another level to the diesel smell that seemed to permeate from the huge asphalt lot filled with the lumbering dinosaurs. As they came and went from the long full rows, I drifted off to sleep.
The next morning he unloaded for me in Urbana, Illinois. We loaded out of St. Louis that afternoon. He was a tireless worker and did a good job. Later on, toward evening, Keith had taken his shirt off while we loaded the truck. His chest was impressive and just coming into its own, and his stomach was flat with a line of silky blond hairs that ran down under the belly button. His tanned, freckled skin and plump pink nipples kept getting my attention and I tried to keep my mind on my work, but Keith was a born distraction. It was difficult not to admire him.
It took three days for him to start talking about something besides Bonnie. He seemed to be enjoying the travel and hard work. By the end of the next run, we were well beyond Denver, heading for Vegas. As usual, Keith slept in the front seat, but during the first night in the Rockies, he got cold and reached behind the seat to shake a leg -- mine.
"What is it?" I growled, being tired and wanting nothing but sleep at that point.
"I'm freezing. Is there enough room back there for me?"
The bunk was directly behind the two seats in the cab. It started level with the top of the seats and went back thirty-six inches. The sleeping compartment was as high as the roof of the cab, which offered ample headroom and it was the width of the truck, eight feet, with a specially designed mattress to fit the space. It was Spartan and simple, and there were no moving parts to break. There was plenty of room for two men if they didn’t mind closeness or weren’t claustrophobic. When you spend 24/7 with someone, you get to know them pretty well, and you either hate 'em or you like 'em. In my experience there was very little middle ground.
"Sure," I said, "but not in your street clothes. I keep these sheets clean. It's one of the few comforts of home I get."
There was just enough light in the rest area, out on Interstate 70 West bound where I parked for my mandatory sleep period, to allow me to see Keith carefully taking off his clothes. He took off everything except his white briefs. He lifted my comforter and slid up against me as he cleared the back of his seat in one bound. The bunk was elevated so it cleared the drive train. Its rolled and pleated interior gave it a plush look, but it also kept the noise to a minimum, and the high ceiling gave you enough room to move around without clanging your head. He closed the thick leather drapes that separated us from the outside world and kept out most if not all of the light the towering light poles furnished.
"Damn, I'm freezin'," he complained -- I guess to justify his pressing his body against mine. I was surprised he stayed put. The feel of him against me sure warmed me up plenty.
"Why didn't you come back sooner?" I asked in a more sympathetic tone of voice.
"I fell asleep," he said, sheepishly. "I wish I'd woke up sooner. It's warm back here." He shivered up against me, but the initial chill I’d felt on the skin he had against me was now gone.
His bare back was pressed firmly against my naked chest. My knees touched the back of his legs. But I made sure our underwear didn't touch.
I had an erection all night and didn't get much sleep. Most of the time, I lay there awake, wondering what it'd be like if Keith was a little more adventurous. I'd had a fantasy about him since the first time I'd seen him fueling my truck almost two years before. Being up close and personal had only served to make the fantasy more compelling.
After that first night in my bunk, Keith never went back to sleeping in the seat. It became easier for both of us, but it really wasn't completely comfortable for me. Whenever our schedule allowed us to sleep in, he was spread out all over me by mid-morning. He was several inches taller than I was, and matched me pound for pound, so he pretty much slept where he wanted -- not that it bothered me at all.
A few times, I woke up with my arm around his chest with him pressed entirely up against me while we both slept on our left sides. My erection would be poking into the crack of his ass, but he either had never noticed it, or he wasn't about to mention it.
One morning, I'd been so bold as to let my hand rest on his stomach just above the waistband of his underwear. I enjoyed touching the smooth flat flesh. With his butt pressed firmly up against my morning erection, it was easy to imagine us bumping and grinding our way into a new glorious day. With my hips pressing even harder against him than usual, I really had to force control over my primal urges.
Keith was pleasant to be around. He worked hard, ate well, and asked for nothing. By the end of the first week, he seemed to be getting over his loss. He started to enjoy our travels, and even laughed from time to time.
He wanted to know more and more about me and how I'd come to be a trucker. His questions became more in-depth as he thought about the experiences we were having. He told me he'd always been scared to leave home before, but now he was secure in the knowledge that after working for me, he could make it on his own without being connected to Iowa City and home.
Things started to change on the Tuesday we loaded out 400 bags of rice. The bags were one hundred pounds each. They were going to Detroit, Michigan, and it was the kind of physical load I hated. After doing all the extra labor, you had to drive all night to stay on schedule. This was the little fly in the shipping ointment. Luckily, a load like this didn't come along too often. I was also real lucky to have Keith. We shared the loading chores for the first hour, until the nose of the truck was filled with bags of rice.
"Listen, Joe. You've gotta drive when we're done," Keith suddenly stated after dropping a bag of rice at his feet. "I'd feel better about that if you let me finish the loadin'. After all, it's my job. You're cuttin' into my pay. Go get some rest."
I found it hard to argue with him and my back was already aching. I relaxed for a few minutes, leaving him to his work. I ended up undressing and lay down on top of the bunk. The morning had been cool, but after the sun had come over top of the warehouse it furnished warmth for the interior of the truck, but by the time I woke up I was in stifling heat. It had gone from the comfortable sixties to the torrid nineties, just in the couple of hours I'd slept. With the sun now shining right down on the windshield of the truck, it was like an oven. That was Arkansas.
After slipping into my pants, I wandered to the back of the truck to see how the loading was going, Keith was ten feet from the back door, hoisting bags of rice off a pallet. He was shirtless, and had on a tight pair of cutoff jeans and the tennis shoes he always wore. I could see that his legs were as lean and muscular as the rest of him. His back tightened as he stretched to set a bag on top of another pile. The muscles in his shoulders and arms bulged as he strained under the weight, and his tanned skin glistened with sweat.
I leaned on the tailgate and watched the handsome young man. He had what I might call a swimmer’s body on steroids, as if it'd been placed on a football player’s frame. His waist was all but non-existent, and he’d obviously lifted weights. His arm muscles bulged even when he was at rest, and his chest was cut deep and made him look even bigger than he really was. His shoulders were big enough to fit his chest and arms, and there was a generous sprinkling of freckles on his upper back and at the top of his chest. The perspiration on his skin made him more appealing than ever. Even when he sweated and worked hard, he still smelled sweet to me. There was no perfume, no cologne -- just a healthy All-American boy who smelled like a million bucks worth of fresh air.
They sure knew how to grow 'em in Iowa, I thought, chuckling to myself. I didn't climb up or offer to help, realizing he was within an hour of finishing and he'd marked that as his turf now. I'd make sure that he knew he could ask me for help if it was too much for him, but for now I just stood there, taking in the scenery and feeling lucky that I'd asked him along. It had been way too long since I’d had someone pleasant to look at to perk up my days of routine.
"I wondered how long it would take," he suddenly muttered, breaking the silence as he released a bag and before he reached for another.
"What's that?" I asked, sensing no ill will or discontent directed at me.
"For you to start lookin' at me like I was the Blue Plate Special." Again his words weren't bathed in anything I could identify as anger or hostility, but they did speak for themselves after all. I had been staring and it wasn’t the first time.
Embarrassed that he'd caught me cold, I took a quick glance around, because there were other trucks and other men and I didn't want to air any dirty laundry in public. "I'm sorry, Keith, I didn't mean to do that," I hastily explained, somewhat defensively. "I was seeing a handsome, well-built lad -- that's all. Can't I admire something nice without being accused? I mean, I haven't bothered you even once. I've respected your feelings completely."
"I'm not accusin' you of anything. It's just that what I've heard is different from the way you are. That's all I meant," he quickly added, breathing almost as hard as he was sweating. He leaned his back against his latest stack of rice and pulled off his gloves. His basket was off to the right, running casually down on the inside of his leg, but I tried not to notice it, at least not while he was noticing me.
"How's that?" I questioned. "How am I different? I'm just like anybody else."
"The jokes an d the talk. You know, we don't get a lot of real information where I grew up. It isn't what they're a teachin' or preachin' in the schools or churches." He looked away from me for a moment, and hesitated. "I almost said no to you when you told me what you were. I guess I needed to get away more than I needed to be able to judge you, or what you told me you liked.
"For the last week and a half, I've been wonderin' what's wrong with me. I had this plan of how I'd explain to you that I wasn't like that, if you ever made a grab for me. I had that all in my head before I got in the truck the first time -- how I'd handle it, if and when you did."
He sighed and shook his head. "All the stuff I was taught: faggots... excuse me, gays -- can't get enough of it. It's all they think about and do. They get one shot at ya, and you're toast. They go right for the jewels, then they get you wantin' it all the time. They wanna make you just like them. But it's all crap... isn't it?"
I sighed and looked him right in the eye. "Worse case, I'd say no. There really are some guys like that out there, and they'll do exactly as the preachers and teachers told you. And there are straight guys that'll do the same thing toward women. These kinds of people have no respect for anyone, but you can't judge everyone by the actions of the worst ones."
He wiped the sweat off his forehead with his left forearm, then turned back to me. "It's what I was taught, you know," he said quietly. "But then you didn't do anything that first day or that night, or the next, or the next. Even when I started sleepin' in the bunk and thinkin' about what it would be like to... you know, to do it." His face reddened slightly. "I thought I must be a real geek if you didn't even make one pass at me in all this time. All those stories, and all I got was a few hugs when you put your arms around me a couple of times in your sleep. I guess I don't know as much as I thought." He made a half-hearted attempt at a smile.
"I respect you, Keith," I said. "I wouldn't ever... well, let me re-phrase that... I wouldn't try to get you to do anything you wouldn't enjoy. What's the point? It's not like I didn't notice how good-looking you are. I did, and I guess, seeing you... well, seeing so much of you today, kinda caught me by surprise. I was admiring your body because it's beautiful. That's all I was doing.”
He looked away from me, embarrassed.
"Don't try to link me to the rumors and jokes," I continued. "I haven't done one thing to make you question my intentions. You're my helper. More than that, you're a good helper. And that's it, as long as you say that's it. If you have something more than that in mind you’re going to have to make it clear to me."
I once again looked at his body, focusing on the narrow line of blond hair that ran below his belly button, down, down, down to where the front of his pants sagged low on his hips. It disappeared there, and I wondered what it looked like at the end of those bunny tracks. Even though that inadvertent glance had taken less than a second, in that time his eyes flickered down to where my eyes had gone, then they were back on me. He nodded, put his gloves back on, and went back to work without saying a word.
I felt a pang, as though I had betrayed his trust in some way. It was too easy to say that I had told him I was gay, and being gay, of course I looked at guys. I hadn't taken any liberties and didn't intend too, but who was I kidding? As soon as he turned his back, I was noticing how his ass took up every bit of room in those cutoff jeans, and those jeans were frayed, and I was sure I could see bare flesh when he stretched them tight while he was stacking the bags. I sighed and got back into the truck.
* * * * * *
We were passing through the short stretch of Missouri before going from the bottom to the top of Illinois, when we stopped for food and showers. It was almost midnight before I pulled off at the 76 Truck Stop. Keith had remained quiet for most of the afternoon. He'd dozed a little, which didn't surprise me, after the amount of loading he'd done that day. Luckily, the nights were still cool enough for sound sleep.
We got a cola, stretched our legs in the huge truckers lot at the side of the restaurant, but didn't talk as we let ourselves wind down for our night's sleep. I had one full day and then some to get to Detroit and we were less than an eight-hour drive from there; we had an abundance of time. I liked getting the miles behind me. That way, there was no rush getting to the dock to unload on time. Having Keith around gave me a lot more flexibility and a lot more rest.
Long after I settled into the bunk, he still sat up, staring out of the front window. It made me think that Keith was about to leave the truck, and me. He was looking out the windshield at the Dick Simmon's truck parked right in front of us, with the picture of the little skunk on the back. He just sat, staring at it. There were trucks on both sides of us as well, and it didn’t give him much of a view.
I felt a wave of regret. I was sorry I'd let him catch me cruising him, but I guess in some peculiar way, maybe I wanted him to catch me. I couldn't keep sleeping with him much longer, feeling the way I now felt about him. Sooner or later, I'd do something I'd regret and he'd be gone anyway. I really liked Keith. It was nice being around him and he was probably the best worker I'd ever had. I wondered why life was always so complicated, and why people in need of each other were always kept apart by this or that. I'd wanted to be there for him, to help him get over the loss of a failed love, and now I just wanted him because I loved him.
"I've got a problem," he finally said to nobody in particular, as though talking to himself.
"I thought you might have," I responded as though he had addressed me directly, and I was left to wait for his verdict and what the sentence would be for my lack of self-control.
"You're still awake?" he replied surprised, as though he hadn’t expected an answer.
I sighed. "Yeah. You have a problem. It's hard for me to sleep knowing you've got something on your mind. You did come along with me to help solve a problem, so let's hear it. We'll solve it."
"I'm not sure what to do," Keith muttered softly as though he were in a quandary.
"You follow your heart. That's the way it's always worked for me. You know what's right for you, down inside. That's what you listen to. That's how you solve problems."
He hesitated. "You don't understand. It isn't that."
"It isn't what?" I asked, pretending I didn't know.
He turned and looked at me through the partially opened drapes that let a small amount of light cascade onto my face when I raised up to look at him. "What we talked about today. It's not that. I knew you might think that. I guess maybe it has somethin' to do with it, but we're cool. Really, I'm not mad, Joe."
I was confused. "Then what's the story? Bonnie?"
"Hell, no. I'm a country boy, not a country fool. That's past. My problem is, I'm outta underwear. I can't get back into a dirty pair. I don't know if I should come to bed like that. I mean, I know you don't like my jeans on the sheets. I'm just not sure it's right for me to sleep with you naked, knowin' what I know. It's like I'm tellin' you I'm okay with that, but I don't know that I am."
I smiled. "Look, Keith, admittedly it'll take a real effort for me not to want to jump your bones. But I'm not gonna touch you past the way we've accidentally touched each other when we slept. I don't want to lose you."
He shook his head. "You see? I knew you'd say that. That isn't it. You're too hung up on bein' gay. We've gotten past that a long time ago. I know you wouldn’t do anything on purpose to hurt me. When I start to get back there, well... each time I'm ready to slide under the sheet, I get... Well, it's embarrassing. That's what might cause the trouble."
I sat up and shook my head. "I'm lost, Keith. What the hell have you got to be embarrassed about? I guess I'm dense. Can you be more specific?"
"Well, Bonnie and me had been goin' at it since I was sixteen. That's well over three years. I mean, not many days went by when we didn't do somethin' at least once, until a week before we broke up, when she... when she stopped lettin' me."
I chuckled. "Lord! I thought all you Iowa boys waited until you were married before you could get a little nookie," I said.
Keith flashed his dazzling grin at me. "I've been at it since I was twelve," he said, with a laugh. "It's not like there's anything else to do in Iowa. I was raised up out in the country. You know... skinny dippin' in the creek and all. Some girls like to skinny dip too. All the guys told ya which ones to invite to get what you wanted, even when I was twelve."
"Okay," I said, stifling a yawn. "So it's not Bonnie, and it's not my being gay. I'm still lost."
Keith looked at me like he was trying to gather his courage, then looked away. "I s'pose it does have somethin' to do with you being gay, but not the way you're thinkin'. I'm so horny I can't stand myself! I've hardly ever jacked off and I don't know it'd satisfy me anymore. I never needed to do that much after I got my first pussy. Just take some chick behind the barn for a little while. They’d get all giggly before they’d get right right on it. My own hand never meant as much to me after a little of that."
He turned back to me, then took a deep breath. "What I'm sayin' is, I wanna know what you guys do, and I'm scared you'll get carried away and do somethin' I'm not ready for. I know... you either do it or you don't do it, but I don't know anything about it except that you're a nice guy, and if I'm gonna go down this road, I want it to be with you. Now every time I try to get in bed, I get a boner, and I'm afraid you'll think I'm some kind of weirdo or somethin'."
I grinned and shook my head with disbelief. "I've had a hard-on ever since you pulled yourself up into my truck the first time. It doesn't embarrass me."
"I thought it was only when I let my ass press up against it," he said quietly, looking at me carefully with those big green eyes to measure my reaction.
"No. It's been hard since that day I picked you up."
"I don't wanna do that... I mean, I'm not a woman! It's cool if your body is up against me, but I don't want you in my ass. Something... 'unmanly' about that. Is that okay? I mean, I guess I could do it if I had to, but I'm hopin' I don't."
"Okay. So, you want a blow job?" I asked as calmly and reassuringly as I could.
"You like to come right out with it, don't you?" he said, grinning. "I've always wanted one. I tried to get Bonnie to eat the pole, but she was too 'pure of heart' to do it for me. I bet that bitch has been suckin' John off. I had a chance to get that when I was fourteen, but I chickened out ‘cause it was a guy wanting to do it to me. But yeah, I'd like that. I’ve thought about it a lot lately. That's what I'd like most, I think," Keith concluded, as he finally managed to get all the words in the right places.
"You don't have to do anything you don't want to do, Keith," I said. "It's up to you to decide what you like and don't like. I'd never ask you to do something just for me."
"But you'd still like to fuck me though. I can tell that," he said, nervously.
"You come right out with it, too!" I said, chuckling. "I'd feel honored to do anything with you. You are one of the nicest guys I've ever met, and sure, I'd be lying if I told you I hadn't built a fantasy about doing that. But I never thought you'd want to actually do anything. If a good blow job is what you need, I'd sure enjoy giving you one. Knowing it's your first will make it easier for me to make it your best."
He looked at me incredulously. "You would? Could we get started before I start shakin' any worse than I am already? I'm gonna kneel on the seat facing you while I undress, so you can get things started if you want."
Keith kneeled on the seat facing the foot of the bunk behind his seat and pulled off his shirt as I leaned forward for a closer look. The bulge was pushing out his jeans even more than usual. I leaned out of the bunk to put my hand on his stomach to see how he'd react to my touch.
His sharp intake of air was followed by its slow release as he moaned with pleasure. I let my little finger slide below his belt line, tracing the line of hairs that ran down under his belly button. In a reflex action he sucked in his stomach making a slight sound in his throat as my fingers moved deeper into his pants. I unbuttoned the top of his jeans and unzipped them. A reddish-blond bunch of hair curled out when I spread the zipper apart.
He watched my hand tracing his treasure trail down to his crotch. My fingers brushed against the shaft of his hardening flesh. He shook when I made that first contact with his cock. I hesitated for a second to wait for a sign we were moving too fast for him. He was perfectly still as he took it all in.
I let both of my hands slide inside his jeans, pulling them off his hips as I leaned my shoulder against his smooth chest so I could see what his jeans had been hiding earlier in the day. When my fingers slipped across his ass, he jumped and his muscles tightened until my hands had passed down onto the back of his legs.
"You'll need to do the rest," I said, leaning back and noticing how his cock stood proudly out of dark blond pubic hair. He was even bigger than I had expected from what I’d observed through his jeans.
"I'm havin' another problem."
Keith sounded sorrowful, like he couldn't make up his mind to get into the bunk. I felt awkward and lascivious, and suddenly I wasn't sure I wanted him to go through with it. I'd come to like him enough that I didn't want to risk him being hurt or upset by my feelings for him.
"It's okay, Keith," I said, soothingly. "Like I said before -- you don't need to do this."
"Oh, you don't know how badly I need this. I had the damned problem with my first girl. I'm ready to cum and I don't know if I can calm down."
"What do you want to do?"
I grinned. "We've got plenty of time. We've got until the day after tomorrow to get the eight hours to Detroit."
"I somehow don't believe it'll wait that long."
…And with that comment Keith started giggling which got me laughing. Suddenly he was in the bunk on his back, feet in the air as he tried to kick his jeans off his bare feet and all the time laughing his ass off. All the charm I’d seen in him came alive in a boyish and playful celebration of his innocents.
In his next lucid moment he commented, "I didn't think sex was supposed to be comic relief."
To which I replied, "It all depends on how you do it."
We were both in hysterics again almost immediately. I don't know why it seemed so funny at the time; I guess you just had to be there.
I looked down at his eyes and found him looking back up at me. For the first time I wouldn't have to try to hide the feelings I'd developed for him. He looked away sensing what it was my words couldn't begin to tell him. He blushed lightly at the knowledge he'd glimpsed from my face.
"I don't know where we start," he whispered. "I'm not even sure what I want."
His cock had softened somewhat while we were being amused by our own ineptitude, but it was soon standing out proud once again with its red excitement, and we both watched it pulsing with expectation as the skin gave up the glistening head.
His hand touched just below his belly button and it followed the bunny tracks until his fingers spread into his pubic hair, easily capturing his shaft and balls. With one squeeze the girth of that hot flesh increased remarkably and the color darkened to an even more luscious crimson. When he squeezed, he blew a soft breath of air across my skin and a small sound filtered over his slightly parted lips as his face leaned against my chest.
"I think I can hold it back now, but it won't take much," he said, apologetically. "I'm sorry. I wanted you to have fun, too."
I was surprised at the amount of compassion he showed me. He could have just expected me to blow him and nothing more.
"Lots of guys have a quick trigger," I said, reassuringly. "It gets better with time."
"I don't know. It's always been a problem for me. Lucky I can reload at a right good clip. The second one lasts a lot longer."
"Second one?" I said.
"Yeah. It's just that I get so hard up, I can't hardly hold it back on the first one. Then I can keep it goin' for awhile."
"You're amazing," I said, grinning as I put my right hand on his shoulder. His eyes searched for my eyes as his hand touched mine. Gone was the smile and the humor as his eyes radiated with warmth and his face was etched with desire.
"I haven't done anything yet."
"Yeah, you have, Keith. This isn't about you doing anything for me. I'm gay, and trust me -- I'll enjoy giving you pleasure. I can do that without expecting anything in return. Just being with you is my pleasure."
He seemed simultaneously relieved and embarrassed. "That's good. I don't know what I'll be able to do. I've thought about it, but... well, this stuff seems a bit gross."
I placed my left hand on the inside of his thigh as he spoke. He immediately relinquished the hold he had on himself, and his ruddy red rod swayed almost back onto his stomach until it stopped and came back a few inches before standing suspended at a shallow angle. His eyes closed and his sweet breath caressed my face as I stared down at his manly beauty.
I let my hand ride down to his knee before reversing its course to bring it up until it made contact with his ball sac. The puffed-out pouch had drawn tightly against his shaft, hiding the balls inside. It was a deep red color but with none of the allure his cock possessed. There were red as well as blond hairs on the inside of his legs. The warm night and his body’s anticipation of sex had increased the intensity of his musk-like fragrance, which filled my nose when his legs were as wide apart as he could get them. That wasn’t too wide, unless you improvised when two full grown men were in the bunk. But the mattress was thick and resistant to the kind of workout those men were about to give it.
His left leg bent at the knee, and part of it moved beyond the confines of the bunk as he tried to anticipate my next move, and this movement gave me access to the space behind his testicles. I rubbed him there with the tips of my fingers, kneading him back toward the pucker, but not coming too close to the source of his anxious concern. Touching him there made him give out an involuntary moan, and his position shifted as his right leg crossed over top of my legs. I read this as his attempt to create more room for me to work, but there wasn't more room only more of him touching me.
His right thigh now rested against the front of my briefs, and he couldn't help but notice what had pumped itself up inside them. His right foot was now behind me and up against the back wall of the bunk. His hand went onto his shaft as he started sliding it up and down without taking any hold on it. It was the slightest possible touch he could use on himself, and it made me gulp air when his hips almost imperceptibly thrust up and down to help his fingers do that gentle massage. His chest heaved air and I ceased rubbing behind his balls for fear he'd arrive too quickly.
I wanted to lean over to kiss the inside of his left thigh, which required me to move his right leg off the top of mine and in between them, being careful to make sure it would stay pressed on my cock. In this way, I could position myself to service him in a more tantalizing way. Once my lips reached his flesh, he announced his approval.
"Yeah, that's it!" he half-moaned, half-whispered.
I assume he suspected a blow job was afoot, but I knew better than to throw down your ace before you got 'em excited enough for the royal flush. His reaction did get my mouth kissing north up his thigh until I reached his scrotum. I moved one hand up on his balls to push them out of my way. He arched his back and raised up his hips for me. The first kiss I placed behind his balls got me a gasp before he took a loud gulp of air. I kissed him lower toward the pucker and then took to licking his balls, but I left behind one hand to rub near his prostate.
Whatever pleasure he gave himself with that delicate massage, he gave it up by the time I was sucking on his balls. His back stayed arched and his face had all but disappeared on the back of his pillow. His chest seemed to be gulping endless supplies of air. I had yet to touch his cock but it was obvious he might lose control at any time. I eased up on my rubbing and paid more attention to my roving mouth.
I positioned myself between his legs and weighed on whether I was ready to end it. Should I bring him off now, I'd have gotten to know him intimately between his knees and his navel, but it didn't seem like enough. He hadn't yet objected to my explorations, and it was time to see that chest of his up close. I carefully licked my way up across his stomach until I could place my face against his chest.
I licked his fresh silky skin all the time, remembering those well-shaped nipples I'd admired for the past few days. I let my tongue slid across one, licking it in large circles before tracing the other with my tongue while pinching the first lightly. He moaned for me again as I nibbled and alternately licked one and then the other. The front of my briefs now pressed hard against his erection. I took my time with each escalation, to give him a chance to object at any point if I was making him uncomfortable. But he'd remained mostly silent for our entire encounter, using sounds to tell me how he felt about this and that.
"Jesus!" he gasped without warning. "I thought a blow job was just a blow job! Man, that nipple shit feels mighty good too. I might not make it to the blow job if it gets any better than this. Oh that's so sweet. Before now, I never knew what they were for. You know a lot more than girls know about boys."
I grinned and he thrust his hips hard against me and placed his arms loosely around me as he felt my back, pushing his naked cock firmly against the fabric that held mine. I had to close my eyes and regroup as my own lust surged through me.
His breaths were coming faster now. "I'm gonna lose it in a minute," he warned as he humped against me.
I realized we were at a critical point, and I rubbed his chest and arms roughly forcing him to lie back down. I lifted myself off his front, and I could see a small puddle of clear liquid he had leaked into his belly button. His cock continued to pulse out drops as his breathing slowed ever so slightly. I rubbed his neck and shoulders with a deep thumbed massaging action that quieted his passion somewhat. I stayed away from his erotic zones until his deep easy breaths told me he had lost the edge he'd nearly fallen off of.
"Oh that's so nice," he sighed. "Man, you really know what you're doin'. I'm gonna fall asleep if you keep that up. It's been a long day."
He almost convinced me he could go to sleep without being drained of his pent-up desire, but as soon as my fingers reached over and tightened on his cock, his hips pushed it all the way through until my fist was in his rusty blond pubes. I squeezed until I felt the shaft swelling in my fingers. The head was getting sticky and more engorged by the second. He lifted himself up on his elbows and forced his hips up as his head dropped back on his shoulders and a big whoosh of air burst out of his mouth. I eased my fingers apart so he wouldn't get so much pleasure as he thrust his hips up. He seemed to understand that I wasn't going to let him get off that way. He didn't look at me, but his body once against started to relax. The sound of our heavy breathing filled the compartment.
"Wow!" he said, sounding distant. "One more second and I'd've been there that time. You really like torturin' a guy don't you?"
I listened, saying nothing in response. After a minute I used my teeth ever so slightly on his most sensitive nipple. He moaned without restraint this time, before sucking in air and poking his chest toward my mouth. At the same time he put both of his hands on my head to hold my mouth on the nipple, and then he ground his chest on my mouth.
I could feel his hot breath on my neck. I licked him harder and used my lips to excite him even more as he forced his chest against my mouth even harder than before. My teeth were the answer he was searching for, and a loud moan escaped when I used them more aggressively on that ever-so-sensitive flesh.
When I licked down his stomach, he loosened his grip on my head, but he left his fingers resting in my hair. I found his belly button with my tongue and licked up the fluid he'd left in it. I then used the light trail of hair to guide me down to his pubic hair, pushing the thick shaft out of my way. He trembled as my mouth came closer to where he wanted it and then he exhaled in exasperation when I wouldn't give him what he so desperately craved.
"Fuck!" he hissed between clenched teeth. "Will you suck it already? You're killin' me!"
I scooted back down between his legs and licked his balls with sloppy wet lapping sounds. I lifted them up to see what the reaction would be, as I continued the same sloppy wet licking back, back, back between his legs as he lifted up his body and once more arched his back. He lifted his bent left leg in a contortionist's delight which had his left foot on the ceiling of the bunk in his effort to reveal all his secrets to my diligent tongue. The pucker was a rusty golden color, a perfect well-marked circle of flesh.
I rubbed my finger across the spot roughly as he held himself up for the examination, using that one over-extended leg like a pro. When my tongue touched it ever so delicately the first time, his left hand reached around the back of his left leg to pull my face into the cleft of his ass and onto the hole. The accompanying moan was familiar and a predictable result by this time. He ground his ass on my mouth much like he’d done his chest. There was no longer any caution or tentativeness about that most sacred of spots he’d been worried about. There was no doubt he wanted or needed this servicing and he wasn’t about to settle for any half hearted measures.
At this point, I couldn't help but give him the tongue-lashing I'd been saving for just this exposure, and I lavished all the attention I could muster on that single spot. He writhed in response to my tongue's familiarity with his most sensitive spot that I'd found up until this time. He now had both of his legs airborne while both of his hands held me in place. But I knew if I didn't relinquish this delicacy back to him soon, I'd be tempted to do something neither of us was ready to do. With reluctance I withdrew my tongue from him and took my time working back up to his balls. He was still whimpering slightly when I came up for air and to watch him slowly relax one more time.
I held his balls firmly as he lowered his shoulders and legs into a more natural position. As I studied his shaft I realized the head had turned the most incredible color purple I'd ever seen on anyone's cock before. I had to have that shiny plump flesh in my throat. It seemed to broadcast the amount of excitement he had achieved, and now, I'd finally give him what he'd been waiting for.
When my fingers first touched it, it seemed to be about as full and firm as it could possibly get. The knob was far larger than the shaft by now, and my fingers squeezed gently at first to see if I could make it thicken even more. The skin covering his shaft was pulled so tight there was no sensation of anything but the softest skin in the world covering the hardest cock I'd ever held. Keith was a stud. It arched in the middle just enough to make it point upward ever so slightly. It seemed well-rounded across the bottom and wide and flat across the top. Angry jagged veins rain along one side and a single vein protruded out from his pubic hair and jutted a jagged path for four inches up his shaft before it ended its wide dominant presence before it got too close to the glorious colorful cap.
Looking directly down on it, I glanced at his face to see if he was watching how his cock had caught my attention. His eyes were pinched closed and he seemed just happy to have someone handling him again. I squeezed with my hand about half way up his shaft and watched as the pee hole opened and I leaned down to smell that seminal passage full of precum. It was him times ten, and the aroma tightened my own scrotum to a point of near-explosiveness. As l leaned lower, I watched him exuding his fluid out from the slit and down on the shaft and over my fingers. Each time I squeezed firmly, another stream followed the last. I'd never seen anyone so responsive to my touch.
When I put my hand in the middle of his chest to gage how close he was, it felt as though I was holding his heart in my hand. There's no way I could calculate how fast or how hard it was beating. Keith was so excited, he could hardly breath. I was careful not to stroke him too fast, but I didn't want to just put my mouth down on him without announcing I was raising the ante. I wanted him to last longer if he could, and right then he was so close I could feel his fluids rising in his cock.
I knew if I didn't stop touching his shaft, it'd be all over before we got to the finish line. I wanted him to have enough time to cool down, so I used my mouth on his pubic hair and licked around his balls for a minute while I gave his thighs a rough rub. I listened for his too-rapid breathing to slow and didn't do anything else but watch his incredible body at rest, all the while keeping my hand there to monitor his heart. When it seemed he could take it, I licked starting at the bottom of the shaft, holding it up so I could lick the underside all the way up to the cleft of his pulsing cock-head.
His eyes opened when my lips made the first gentle contact. I didn't want to lick or suck until he adapted to the fact my mouth was at last where he wanted it. His green gaze didn't waver until I eased my lips down partially over the tip. I used my tongue to lick off the oozing juice he was pumping out for me. The expression on his face changed, changing from that of impatient expectation to one of relief. When I took the entire head and washed my tongue over it, his eyes pinched closed again and his head fell back across the pillow. He seemed unable to arch his back any longer and except for his hard working chest, he seemed almost unconscious.
His hips moved upward as my mouth moved down. He reminded me he was awake by putting his hands up to the sides of my face. He held my head in place while he thrust up tentatively at first as he made an effort to feed me more of his cock. I knew by the power in his grip and by the way his body was now coming alive, I was obliged to finally give him what he wanted. I could sense he wasn't going to release the hold he had on me until he was done.
After a couple of minutes his movements became more focused and his hips raised higher, faster, while his hands held my face tight. I found it impossible to keep my teeth off the widening shaft after he started this new drive toward satisfaction. My exhausted mouth refused to stretch as wide as was necessary to keep from doing him harm, but he wasn't about to give up getting more of it into my throat just yet. I tried to take it as easy as I could on that most delicate of tissue, but he was having nothing to do with the cautious approach. Keith had seen the finish line and he was hard charging toward relief.
I feared he'd regret tomorrow his lusty aggression tonight, but there was no way I could express my concern or undo myself from the impaling he was orchestrating -- not that I wanted to undo anything. He'd now gone beyond any desire for the slow and easy crap, and he reminded me of this fact by thrusting his hips up hard while still holding my head down on him. When I had five or six inches in my mouth, my teeth dug into him in an involuntary reaction to his forcefulness. His groan seemed to indicate he was about to relent, but his words didn't support that notion.
"Suck me!" he begged. "Suck my big dick!"
His unabashed declaration disregarded the fact that my teeth began digging deeper into the tender skin. He was determined to force me further down on his hot rod, but I was unable to open my jaw any further. I figured his tender tissue wouldn't be the only thing that was sore in the morning.
After two or three more hard bites, he finally realized that his unstoppable force had met up with my immovable object, and with a painful look on his face, he slowly and resolutely backed me off his cock a few inches. As much as I wanted to oblige him, we came to a halt and he buried it in the confines of my throat once again. I could tell by his labored breathing and the primeval growl in his throat that it wouldn't take long to finish what had been started. Perhaps he sensed he was so close it would be foolish to stop now. We could rest up once our mission was completed.
I wrapped my hand around the bottom of the shaft and eased back a few inches so I could lick and suck him in a way that would get him to where he so desperately wanted to go without the painful side affects. His hands loosened, allowing me to take control once more. I worked my mouth back up to the top of his shaft and I suctioned the tip for several seconds, then replaced my salivating mouth with my hand and continued to gently massage him, up and down the entire length while I caught a breath of fresh air. His glassy eyes stared at me for a minute before he spoke.
"I was almost there!" he moaned. "Man, you almost got it. Why'd you stop? I'm right there, really! Damn, that hurt. You bit me!"
"Sorry. My mouth's tired, Keith," I panted. "Let's take it easy. You just might want to use that thing again. You've got the fattest cock I think I ever sucked."
He grinned. "Really? I'm pretty big, huh? That's good isn't it? Girl’s really like fat ones. Don't stop, Joe. I’m really close."
Anything more than a mouthful came to mind, but I resisted that piece of wisdom and let him revel in the knowledge that he had a big dick according to another man who knew about such things. There was an innocent pride in his face as he checked out his own endowment.
"You are big," I agreed. "Especially when you get going. But I don't want to bite you. Just let me do it, and it'll be better for both of us."
He looked a little disappointed. "I can't help it. It's like it isn't even me. I just... I just wanted you down on it. I didn't even care it hurt. It felt even better, the harder you bit me. I can’t explain it. The harder you bit the harder it made me fuck your mouth. I’ve never felt anything like that before."
"What feels great tonight might hurt like hell tomorrow," I warned. “Lust overrides common sense and pain, and believe me, you don’t want to break the skin there.”
"Who cares? It was great! You sure in hell know how to do it."
"You won't think that when you're limping around tomorrow with teeth marks all over your manhood." I winced at the thought.
"Can we finish now?" he asked impatiently.
I stretched my jaw to see if it was still working properly. "Yeah," I said.
Keith turned more on his side as I took him back into my mouth. He had calmed down a little so he wasn't quite as thick. I took the opportunity to swallow most of him up while I still could, but when he got all the way turned on, it forced me back up his pole. I didn't worry as much about my teeth cutting into him, because he didn't seem to mind. I set up a slow motion that combined sucking him while I massaged the area behind his balls, where he seemed most sensitive to the touch, letting my index finger stray onto his hole using my saliva and a firm pressure to remind him I had been there.
Breathing more rapidly after several minutes of this dual stimulation, Keith moaned and sweated as he strained to keep his hips from helping me along. His big hands moved down to the sides of my face, but he made no attempt to control the action himself this time. His ass encouraged my finger only a little, but he never once mentioned I should take the finger back.
His fingers moved gently on my skin, as if he were exploring something for the first time and wasn't sure what it was. When he bent his knees up, he slid his hands down my neck and onto my shoulders, carefully touching me while shoving his ass completely down on the digit I had inside him. His strong fingers exerted a rough pressure but the sensation wasn't in the least bit unpleasant. He rocked easily to the rhythm of my mouth and hummed his approval as he was getting closer to the point of no return.
He seemed quiet, almost contemplative, once he made it easier on me by giving me control. I could feel his eyes on me as this new and sensual approach to getting a blow job made it a lot more fun giving him one. When he sat up, I thought he was positioning himself for the finale, but instead, he fooled me when he kept his hips in the same location, but then reversed his feet to where his head had just been. This placed his face directly in front of my briefs. I was momentarily stunned with surprise.
Feeling his hot breath on me, even through my underwear, was enough to get me going big time. When he began licking me through the cloth, I thought I might die or at least wake up. I'd never once expected or even hoped that he might reciprocate in some way. When I felt his mouth chewing on the material that held my cock, my brain fogged over and gave me the feeling I was floating in air.
I knew the only reason he'd be down there doing what he was doing at this point in the exercise was his way of looking for that extra stimulation for his big finish. I tried to remember it was his cock and not mine I was more concerned with, but he was making it as hard on me as he could. When his hand was fumbling at the front of my briefs in earnest, it became obvious that he was trying to get my erection out through the pee slit. Hell, I would've ripped them off if he'd given me time, but time was something neither of us had any longer.
I'd just taken about as much of him as was physically possible without biting him again, when I felt his hand on my aching cock flesh. No sooner did it hit the cool air of freedom when his lips plunged down over the head as he made one gallant dive down my shaft.
His lips set me on fire as he slid them as far as they'd go in the single minded plunge. It was when he had the head of my poker up against his throat that he started to spasm. There was only a split-second when I first tasted the distinct change in fluid, going form the sweet nectar to a thick, bittersweet tang.
His first hot jet of cum splattered on the roof of my mouth before spraying down my throat, just as a second powerful spasm furnished me with one more shot of his affection. He spewed out his thick aphrodisiac in oozing regularity for a minute or more, having given up its powerful bursts for the steady pumping action that emptied his body of passion. I swallowed as I let his hot liquid drain down my throat. His cock swelled each time it pulsed out another stream and then softened slightly between each spasm. He shook the entire time he was lost in his orgasm and then relaxed totally with my erection still in his mouth.
He moaned a soft humming sound as he spit hot air onto my shaft. He twisted his shoulders and his hands grappled for my head, but he was already drained. The ecstasy he was trying desperate to hang onto slipped out of his grasp as he touched the sides of my face without making any new demands. He sighed his surrender with one long hot breath as all the air came out of him. His body jerked one final time and he was done.
We lay there, holding the other's member in our mouths. I enjoyed his more manageable size and he seemed to be enjoying the presence of my still-firm meat on his tongue. After he was well-recovered, he turned his head, letting my shaft slip free so he could explain what had come over him.
"I'm glad I waited," he sighed. "None of them girls I've been with could've done me that way, even if they wanted. You're surely a marvel with that mouth of yours, I reckon."
Using his spit and handfuls of appreciation, Keith started to work his big fist on my cock. He kept it close to his face and I watched him watching it as he stroked me faster and faster. My orgasm came too swiftly for me to announce it, not that he had any doubt what I was doing. He held it on his chest as he massaged all life out of it. He rubbed it in the cum I deposited on his chest. He kissed my balls when my spasms were done.
“That was the best. Thanks!” I said weakly.
I caught my breath, then grinned. "It helps when the other person enjoys it as much as you did."
"Did I ever! That was almost as hot as..." He searched for the word. "It was as hot as fuckin'. It was pretty damn nice. I'm not sayin' I'm gonna be givin' up pussy any time soon, you understand, but it was okay." He turned around to get his head back at the top of the bunk while he gave me his insights into his first blow job.
I positioned myself as far to one side as I could in case his orgasm had made it less desirable for me to be touching him. He took a minute to adjust his body, then he slid his back onto my chest. He pulled my arm around his own chest so that our bodies touched along their entire length. The evidence of my feeling for this sweet young man thrust out of my underwear. It settled in the cleavage of his unconcerned buttocks.
Keith placed his hand on top of mine, as he softly whispered, "Thanks, I needed that," in his best Maxwell Smart imitation. We both laughed.
* * * * * *
We were parked in a truck stop just outside of Detroit the next evening, and nothing had been said all day about our sexual adventures from the night before. I treated it as though it had never happened, which is the way I had found many straight guys wanted it after they tasted of 'the forbidden fruit.' I didn't expect another encounter but without conversation about it, I couldn't be sure. That left me all the more surprised by Keith's comments at dinner that evening.
"I never knew my father," he said, toying thoughtfully with his food. "I was close with my friend John since... since forever, I guess. He's the only guy I ever felt I could talk to until now. You're a great guy. I'm glad I came on your truck, Joe. I didn't know if I'd like the road, but it's fine. In fact, I might just own me my own truck one day."
I nodded as I sipped a glass of water. "I can teach you to drive. You'll be able to get your license when you're twenty-one."
"You'd do that for me?" he asked.
"I'd do most anything for you," I confessed, and I knew he had to know how I felt about him by then.
"Yeah, I guess you would," he said, grinning. "I'd like that, Joe. That means I’d have to stay around awhile."
* * * * * *
About a month after Keith took the job with me, we passed through Iowa City again, where it all began. He told me not to stop. It was shortly after that we started talking about getting his trucker's license almost every day. He wanted it so he could help me with the driving chores.
In spite of our mutual enjoyment of the initial masculine intimacy we'd shared, I'm never sure there will be another time until he lets me know he's "in the mood."
He seems more adventurous each time, and all I can say is, "Thank Heaven for Iowa boys!"
# # # # # # # # # #
The road is a hard lonely place filled with opportunity and adventure. Joe Buck rarely needs to look far for a friend and those friends often find themselves admiring the man who takes them on. Giving them a little taste of hard work along with a good dose of TLC, they remember him long after they’ve gone back to sort out their own lives. Even a few of them thing they might become truckers.
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