From: rdragon@ix.netcom.com(***)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: Truckin' by Southern Knight (MM, gay, oral, anal)
Date: 7 Jul 1996 21:23:45 GMT

			      Truckin'
				 by
			   Southern Knight

	Ken Varden felt his nerves begin to loosen up as he pulled
onto the interstate and headed for home. Others complained about
commuting, he knew, but for him it was always relaxing, particularly
the homeward run. There was always the promise of a short stop at the
rest area midway in his drive, and that meant the possibility of
meeting someone.

	It was far from the best way of doing it and sometimes he felt
cheapened by it, aching cock and hungry mouth meeting, a few hurried
strokes and the taste of cum; but it was the best way of bringing
himself down from a hectic day at work when it happened. And it did
happen often enough to keep his hunger fairly well satisfied. Someday
"true love" would come along, he figured... if only he could figure
out what the hell that meant!

	As he drove, he flashed through his mind the faces of those he
could remember: a couple of truckers, John and Bob (whatever their
real names were), a couple of locals, the two guys from someplace down
south, the black guy who gave him his first taste of dark meat...
There were more, of course, and he smiled to himself when he realized
that the only ones he really remembered were those who were not cut,
and all others seemed to blur together into one.

	For some reason he couldn't explain, he'd had a hangup about
that ever since. He had always resented having been circumcised. So
much so, that at one time he had contemplated taking the life of the
doctor who had mutilated him. That had been a rash and wild dream, to
be sure, but his frustration only grew when he learned that the old
man was already dead. That was probably the reason he tended to
gravitate toward uncut partners.

	Even back in the days before he had really understood the
forces that were at work within him, he had felt drawn to guys whom he
knew had foreskin. He supposed now he had felt he was sharing with
them in their foreskins and in that way made up for the loss of his
own. He even tried to figure out how the word came into being,
remaining ignorant of the origin despite his efforts.

	But it hooded the crown of manhood... and that intrigued him
to no end. He envisioned the sprawling body of a young man clad only
in his unbuttoned shirt with his half erect cock, the gleaming head
cloaked in a long foreskin and his own groin would stir and swell at
the thought. He imagined his fingers encircling the shaft and drawing
the naturally lubricated sheath back from the smooth, pink bulbous
head and his lips pressing around the cockhead that was perpetually
bathed in natural male secretions. His cock instantly pulsed at the
thought.

	He sighed out loud. They, foreskins were getting to be pretty
rare birds these days and, unless one was willing to settle for a
regimen of old men, one had to take what one could get. There wasn't
much to do but hope for the best and maybe he would get what he
wanted. Still, he could do what he could. He had such a hunger down
inside him for the taste of a juicy uncut cock it was difficult to
satisfy.

	One day while he was sitting on the john at the rest area he
began to read the messages scribbled on the wall. Rather impulsively,
he took out his pen and wrote a message of his own:

	       "WANTED - WELL HUNG STUD WITH FORESKIN"

	It had been there for months now, off and on, sometimes it got
scrubbed away by the old man who worked as attendant, but always he
wrote it back. Someone would answer and he would wait. Sometimes the
guy showed and they made it, sometimes he waited in vain, and there
were times when he had just driven off without bothering.

	Once, in answer to:

		"I'VE GOT WHAT YOU WANT - SUCK IT DRY"

he waited until the indicated time of midnight and then blew his cool.

	The dude who showed up and stood outside the door, rubbing at
his crotch with an absolute air of desperation, was the young minister
from the Baptist church he belonged to but never attended. He felt
something akin to panic. No, he thought, the town was too small for
that, but now, thinking back, it was a good thing to know. If he ever
got religious he would know where to go.

	What he really wondered was, would it pay off today? He felt
his nerves twitch as he thought about it. It was Friday and someone
had written in reply to his message.

		       "BE HERE FRIDAY AT 6 PM"

	He glanced at his watch. Fifteen minutes to go. He had timed
it just right and the rest area was coming up fast, just a couple of
more miles ahead. Finally he saw it as he rounded the curve and
entered the off ramp. All around him the afternoon sun stretched
brilliant fingers to the autumn colors of the trees on the surrounding
hillsides. He pulled into a stall near the little building and came to
a stop.

	He waited. He knew these places sometimes got hot and it was
wise to take a little time to look things over and get the feel of it
before making a move of any kind. He also took other precautions and
kept his dash littered with road maps, paper cups, boxes of tissue,
all the paraphernalia of a person who travels a lot and which would
help allay any suspicions.

	There were several semis parked over in the truck area and a
couple of cars down the line from him. He got out of his car,
stretched, looked around for a moment, then went into the john and
used the facilities, there was no one inside so he came back out, went
to the water fountain and took a long drink. He looked around again,
then went and sat down on the bench.

	As he did so, one of the cars started up and drove away. It
was probably one of the truckers, he thought, and wondered if he would
be worth waiting for, or if it would be another disappointment. It was
frustrating to wait and then be turned off by the guy who showed up.

	God knew he wasn't asking for something out of Blueboy, but
there were times...

	He wasn't just all that bad himself. He had kept the trim
runner's body he had developed in high school. His dark hair and skin
were still warm with the flush of the youth he had left not too far
behind him, and he knew his large, dark eyes were his best asset. Not
too bad for 28, he thought. Perhaps a bit effeminate, well not exactly
effeminate, but soft.

	The other car pulled out and he sat staring vacantly after it
as it went down the ramp onto the highway. Then he saw him. He was
coming around the front of the trucks over toward the building. He was
wearing a faded blue denim workshirt, sleeves rolled back, open a
little at the neck showing the glint of a silver medallion against his
chest. He wore his jeans tight, but not provocatively so, yet even
from the distance it was evident that a blanket thrown around him
could not hide the bulge in his jeans.

	It was difficult to tell his age, probably in his late
twenties or early thirties, but not at all what Ken had been
expecting. His softly waving blonde hair offset the angularity of his
face and, as he came closer, he gave Ken a slow, but piercing look and
went on into the toilet.

	He was a tall lanky dude, but his body was solid and hard,
seemingly put together of nothing but sinew and muscle, not the kind
that come from hard work and have a roughness about the edges that is
instantly appealing. And there was that strained hardness about his
eyes that was both fascinating and frightening and had made Ken
shudder. It was almost as if he had the power to see beyond ordinary
human dimensions. His glance had held Ken coolly in its grip, seeming
to see and understand everything that was going on inside him.

	He was definitely not what Ken had expected and he felt his
courage begin to waver. He sat glued to the bench, trembling half in
anticipation, half in fright. Should he follow him in?

	He decided against it. He might not be the right one and it
was best to let him make the first move. They usually showed what they
wanted, rubbed their baskets or something. As he sat waiting he
wondered what the guy would want, if it would be more than sex, or if
he would be one more in a series of truckers who had used him, blew
their nuts in his mouth and pulled it out with maybe a gruff thank you
or a pat on the ass. But then, those were not the kind who left
messages. You only got them by being lucky enough to be there when
they drove in with a hard-on, willing and ready to give them a release
that was better than jacking off on it alone.

	The man came out and walked over to the water fountain without
so much as looking in Ken's direction, stooped and took a drink. He
stood erect, stretched, putting the beauty of his muscular body on
full display, but Ken did not notice. He could not take his eyes from
his crotch, where his freshly put away cock was now more evident than
ever.

	He stood at the fountain for long moments, still ignoring Ken,
staring off into the distance as if looking at something that only he
could see. He's not the one, Ken thought, and a feeling of sadness
crept through him. Then, abruptly, he turned, walked over to Ken and
stood directly in front of him.

	"Are you the foreskin freak?"

	Ken blinked and stared back at him. His eyes were non-
committal, piercing, knowing. His courage almost left him, but he
managed to choke back the words "what are you talking about?" He felt
a tiny throb begin in his temples and he imagined suddenly some psycho
answering his message only for the purpose of drawing him here to beat
him up - or worse. For a moment all he wanted to do was get up and run
for his fucking life.

	Then he smiled. It was a friendly smile that softened the
terrible hardness of his eyes. Ken watched as his hand slid to his
crotch and caressed it gently.

	"Are you afraid?"

	"No," Ken lied.

	"Why does everybody think I bite?"

	Ken hesitated. "... It may be your appearance."

	"Shit!" he said and began to knead the swelling hardness in
his crotch.

	"What the fuck is wrong with me?"

	"Nothing!" Ken said too quickly. "I mean... "

	The man laughed and sat down on the bench beside Ken. "I know
I frighten people, but I never hurt anybody in my life. Can you
believe that?"

	Ken nodded.

	"My name's Mike," he said, holding out his hand.

	Ken took his hand and mumbled, "Ken." His grip was both strong
and reassuring.

	"Okay, Ken," he said, "I know I scare the hell out of you, but
if you're the guy who likes lots of foreskin, I've got more than you
can handle."

	Ken only smiled and released his hand.

	"Shit!" he said again, suddenly, explosively.

	"What's wrong?"

	"Why is everybody afraid of me?"

	"I'm not afraid of you, Mike."

	"Are you sure? You don't sound that way."

	"I'm sure," Ken said, not really sure he was.

	"Well, do you want to go to my truck? We can't do it here."

	"Won't they think that's kinda weird?" Ken asked, nodding in
the direction of the trucks parked near Mike's.

	"Those guys are all asleep. I already checked them out.
Besides, the ones that aren't already got someone... "

	"Okay," Ken muttered half-heartedly.

	He followed Mike to the truck trying to quiet the nagging
uncertainty that still kept gnawing at him. He waited until Mike got
into the cab and unlocked the door on the rider's side, then climbed
up inside.

	"Shoes off!" Mike said. "Nobody goes up there with his shoes
on!" Ken untied his shoes and slipped them off as Mike heaved himself
up into the sleeping box. A moment later Ken crawled up beside him.
Mike already had his shirt off and was starting on his jeans as Ken
began undressing.

	Ken sat looking at the line of Mike's half swollen cock under
the thin cloth of his jockeys. He reached out and ran his finger along
the length of it.

	Mike smiled and said "Are you disappointed?" Ken smiled and
shook his head as Mike reached for him and pulled him into his arms.
They kissed eagerly, exploring the deepest reaches and when they broke
away Ken laid his head on Mike's shoulder. The silver medal on the
chain around Mike's neck caught his eye again and he picked it up in
his fingers.

	"A St. Christopher's medal? But he's not a saint anymore." "I
know," Mike said, "but he protects me." Mike was kissing him again and
the warmth and nearness of his body erased his lingering fear. He felt
the strength of his fully erect cock pressing against his belly and
his own cock was straining at the fabric of his shorts. He reached
down and slipped his hand under the waistband of Mike's jockeys and
took the long, thick cylinder of flesh in his hand. It was big... damn
big! And, Jesus! Mike had more foreskin than any one man had a right
to.

	Mike's hands were moving over his body, caressing, squeezing.
He tugged at Ken's shorts. "Let's get them off," he whispered. In
moments they were completely naked, pressed tightly against each
other. Ken felt the warmth of Mike's body beneath him, his throbbing
cock against his own, and a pair of balls so big he knew he would be
lucky to get them both in his mouth at the same time.

	He slid down, bent his head into Mike's groin and sucked into
his mouth the loose end of his fabulous foreskin, already oozing
abundantly with the juices of an uncircumcised cock in heat. Slowly,
he pulled the skin back, farther and farther, until the full, plump
head was exposed and glistening in the light. He took it into his
mouth, tasting the pungent, almost cheesy flavor of it. He felt Mike's
hands holding him gently by the head, urging him down, and he let the
length of the shaft slowly slide into his mouth and down his throat,
deeper and deeper, until his lips touched the cock hairs at the base.
Mike moaned deeply in his throat.

	"How the fuck can you do that?" Ken didn't answer, did not
even take his mouth from Mike's throbbing cock, but braced himself on
his elbows above him and began to ride it the length of the shaft,
from tip to base and back again and again and again until Mike's body
began to writhe beneath him and his hands tightened on his head. Still
he went on sucking as if he wanted to pull the manhood from him, out
of the deepest corners of his insides down through his cock, but
hoping at the same time it would never end. A tremble took hold of
Mike's body, beginning slowly but increasing rapidly in tempo until he
arched his ass up off the mattress, his muscles strained and tight.

	"I'm gonna cum... I'm gonna cum like I never came before!" he
said.

	Quickly, Ken buried it all the way down his throat and held it
there as he felt Mike's cock throb and flex as it pumped his cum into
him, flooding his throat. He felt himself begin to choke and pulled
back a little, but held it tight and kept the suction on full force
until he was sure Mike had finished. Then he withdrew and milked the
slightly softening cock to squeeze out the last drops of cum and
licked them clean.

	"Where the fuck did you learn to suck like that?" Ken only
looked up and smiled, then sucked Mike's cock back into his mouth,
worked the foreskin back down over the head and up around his tongue.
He held him that way, running his tongue gently around the head inside
until he had gone almost soft. Mike kept on lubricating long after he
had shot and Ken loved it. Loved the slippery feeling of it on his
tongue, loved the totally masculine taste of it.

	He could feel the thick shaft take on life again and begin to
swell. With one long pull, he exposed the head and did some heavy
tongue work on it until he was nearly fully erect again. He ran his
tongue up and down the length of it, over his balls, along the inside
of his thighs, up around the edges to his navel and down the other
side back to his balls. Slowly he sucked one into his mouth and let it
slide out, then the other, back and forth, and finally using his
fingers to help he got them both in and gently slid his tongue around
them. He could hear Mike moaning and feel the jerk of his cock as it
lifted up off his belly and fell back. He let Mike's balls slide out
of his mouth and kissed each one in turn.

	Ken closed his fist around Mike's cock and squeezed the
foreskin all the way forward, forming the loose folds of skin into a
thick, puckered rosette. "I know you think I'm weird, but I wish we
had some honey to fill this fucker with."

	Mike laughed and deliberately made his cock jump in Ken's
hand. "All the honey you need comes out the end of it, if you want it
again."

	"I do, but not the same way."

	"What do you mean?"

	"Up my ass."

	"Can you, Ken?"

	"All of it. I'm ready for it now."

	"No grease?"

	"It does that well enough by itself."

	They switched positions, getting Ken on the bottom this time
as Mike parted his legs and crawled up between them. Ken lifted his
legs over his shoulders, offering his ass wide and receptive as the
tip of Mike's cock brushed against it. He felt Mike reach down, take
hold of it and skin it back, getting ready to go in.

	He bit his lip in pain as he felt the broad head open him and
press inward, stretching his asshole wide. Slowly it pressed on until
he felt Mike's balls come flush up against his ass. Mike stopped
moving and rested perfectly still with his huge rod planted firmly up
Ken's tight asshole.

	Ken began to adjust and his body relaxed, the pain subsiding
as he adjusted to the sudden intrusion. A warmth began to spread
outward from his groin, filling him with the feeling of completeness
he had always longed for. His ass tightened reflexively, squeezing
Mike's cock even tighter, then releasing it. Mike was kissing him
again, his tongue reaching far into the recesses of his mouth.

	Mike's hips began to move slowly, fucking his cock in and out
of Ken's body, his balls slapping gently against his ass at the end of
each long, unending stroke. A tingling feeling of pleasure began down
there as he tightened up with each inward stroke and relaxed as Mike
pulled back, sliding his cock in and out of its sheath inside him.
Mike's stroking shortened, speeded up, became erratic. Ken felt warm,
the tingle of pleasure spreading outward from his ass through his body
causing him to shiver and tremble in the wonder of a body orgasm. Mike
kept pumping, moving in and out, then suddenly gasped, groaned, thrust
himself all the way in and stopped, the muscles of his body straining
and jerking. Ken could feel the pulsing of the massive cock inside him
as the cum boiled up, sped down the length of it and spewed out into
his insides, warm and soothing.

	Mike's body relaxed, and as he lowered himself down, Ken
pulled his legs from his shoulders and locked them around his waist.
He could feel Mike's cock still in him, no longer rigid, but swollen
and jerking spasmodically in the throes of after-orgasm. They lay that
way for a long time, the skin of their bodies glued together, slippery
with sweat, Mike's cock slowly shrinking and withdrawing until nothing
remained inside him but the long length of foreskin. Finally Mike
raised himself and lay down beside Ken. He reached into a small
compartment and withdrew a towel, hastily wiped himself and offered it
to Ken.

	Then he took Ken's chin in his hand and kissed him gently on
the lips.

	"Ken, you're more than I had hoped for."

	"You are too, Mike," Ken said. He thought, more than you know.
He could jack off for months thinking about this.

	"But how do I get you off?"

	David shrugged. "I don't care."

	"I don't want you to be unsatisfied."

	"I'm satisfied."

	"That's not what I mean," Mike said. He buried his head in
Ken's neck, kissing it lightly, hugging him tight. They were silent
for a moment, the Mike said.

	"I know. Turn on your side facing me." Ken did as he was told
and Mike reached down and took hold of his still throbbing cock and
brought the bare head of it up to his own. He began working his
foreskin over Ken's cockhead and down his cockshaft, farther and
farther, until only about an inch and a half remained at the base of
his seven plus.

	"Help me, Ken, get hold of the end and pull it down the rest
of the way. It'll stretch that far, but it won't stay. I want to feel
you all the way inside the way you took me."

	Ken shuddered. The feeling of having Mike's foreskin encasing
his own cock, clinging to it, almost made him lose his load right
there. He fought it back, took the end of the foreskin in his fingers
and pulled.

	It made it, he was completely inside it! He held it for a
moment, then released it and slid it back an inch or so. Mike closed
his hand around Ken's cock inside his foreskin and kneaded it gently,
working up the juices, secreting them onto Ken's cock, making it
slippery as oil.

	Ken moaned and his body began to shiver again. He closed his
eyes. The feeling was indescribable, ecstatic, almost unbearable. He
did not know how long he could hold back his boiling cum. Mike
continued to massage it, slowly and gently, then stopped, gripped it
tight and held it.

	"Okay, Ken, fuck for your life! Make me feel it too!" David
moved his hips slowly, feeling his cock slide back and forth inside
Mike's foreskin, slipping easily in Mike's lubricant as Mike's fist
held it tight. He held his speed down, trying to hold back his orgasm,
knowing he would not last long inside that heated slimy sheath that
gripped both his and Mike's throbbing cockheads. But he couldn't hold
it any longer.

	He felt it well up inside him, tug at his body and explode
into the tight confines of Mike's foreskin. Almost instantly he felt
the load of cum ooze out of Mike's cockhead, bathing his own in its
warm stickiness.

	They lay still as their cocks both subsided. Mike gently
squeezed with his hand, sliding their cockheads around in the slippery
mess of their mingled cum.

	After they had dressed and climbed back down into the cab, Ken
wrote his number on a matchbook and gave it to Mike. As he was
crawling down from the cab, he looked back at Mike and said "Call me,
Mike, don't just think about it."

	"You can bet on it!" Mike replied.