Mile Marker 84, Pt. 1
Author's Note: This story is a work of furry fiction containing sexual acts between two male characters. If this squicks you, you're free to leave. Otherwise, enjoy to your heart's content.
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Mile Marker 84 ©MMIII Whyte Yoté
PART ONE OF TWO: RECEIPT
Now, I'm not one to gamble. I don't do what I do second-guessing myself or playing the "what if" game. I like to set a schedule, follow that schedule, and hopefully fulfill that entire schedule without being interrupted. I don't like surprises, setbacks, or mishaps. But I do sometimes like a change of pace.
In my line of work, there's no room for error. You do your route, unload your shit, and if you don't fuck up you get to be back home for the weekend. I know guys who like to try to cheat the books, but none of 'em ever last long on the fleet. I'm not a cheating man, and I've driven 23 of my 43 years with the same people.
I'm a cross-country dual reefer, which basically means I drive 3000 miles each way in a week, hauling loads both ways. It's a damn good living if you do it right.
Being on the road 80 percent of your life, you're bound to see things and do things you wouldn't normally see and do. You meet people. Some of them impact you, some of them don't. And those who do impact you, you hang onto them because they make up your life and what and who you are. I could be all philosophical about this whole thing, but all I want to do is tell it like it was.
The stretch of highway between St. Louis, Missouri and Denver, Colorado is one of the most boring stretches of road in this wide-open country of ours. In the Truckers' Bible, it is referred to as "Onan's Corridor", a reference to the story of Onan, in which some guy is struck down for spilling his seed on the ground. Long story short, the guy whacked off and got whacked for it.
You get the idea. You hit this road, and eventually you'll be breaking out the lube and stroking your cock as you drive. It does take up the miles, though. Usually, I open my pants around Kansas City and end up spraying the dashboard white around Salina, a good two-hour drive. It comes in pretty handy to pass the time, so to speak.
About once a month I'll get lucky enough to pick up a hitchhiker, going to Los Angeles or New York depending upon in which direction I'm traveling. Most of 'em are willing to trade a good blowjob for a day's ride, but if that's not their thing, then I don't push it. I'm not a pervert or a pedophile, mind you, I merely show them how monotonous it is on the road and how a little favor now and then doesn't hurt.
Also, I failed to mention that until recently all of my riders were females, most of them poor enough to fuck anything for money, so making one old bear trucker happy was a pretty minor affair. But one rider, last month, did a pretty good job of changing a few of my ancient tried-and-true opinions of what it means to please and be pleased.
* * *
Normally, I don't like to stop anywhere near St. Louis, especially near the east side, because nothing good ever comes out of that part of town. I make sure to gas up and get full well before I hit the metro, so I can travel right on through and leave it alone.
So I was ahead of schedule for once, about fifteen minutes, moving at a pretty good clip when I saw this guy sitting on the grass median separating an off ramp and the highway. Right then I looked away, not wanting to see his face as I passed him, but I ended up looking anyway. He was short, kind of lanky, with a backpack full of his stuff and a thumb sticking up stiffly at the traffic. He whizzed by at 78 mph as I passed him.
To this day I still don't know why I slammed on the brakes. It was East St. Louis, for God's sake! And this was a guy, nonetheless. And, I wasn't horny in the least (yet). But once I heard my air brakes whoosh all over the road, I knew I had to let him on. I had done a little hitching in my teens, and I know that feeling of being left behind. Or tricked into hope. So I stopped under an overpass and waited for him to walk up.
My mirror was too high to see anything, but I waited patiently until I heard a knock on the door. "It's open!" I yelled, although the window was down. The door swung out and a dark head peeked over the passenger's seat.
"Did you stop for me?" The raccoon said, ears perked hopefully.
"Do you see anybody else in this slum wanting a ride, buddy? Hop in, I don't want to sit too long." I patted the seat next to me.
The guy's eyes lit up and shined in the black mask around them. "Wow! Thanks, man! I thought nobody would stop." He hoisted himself up into the seat and buckled in. As soon as he closed the door, we were off.
It took about two minutes to get back up to speed, and the guy didn't say a word. All I heard was rustling as he brought his backpack around front and set it on his lap. I set the cruise and glanced over at him.
Like I said, he was a raccoon, dusty from sitting on the road. He wore a plain yellow T-shirt and cutoff shorts, a little too high on the leg for my taste. Lots of studs in his right ear. That should have tipped me off, but it just didn't come to mind at the time.
"So, kid, what's your name? Can't have a decent conversation without knowin' your name."
He looked back at me with an "oh-great-an-inquisition" look and said, "Name's Tain. And I'm not a kid, either. I'm 20. What's your name, Pops?" He sounded annoyed at the reference to his age, and I didn't push it.
"You can call me Sam. And I'm not a father. I'm 43. Are we even with the insults now? I don't mean to pry, but it's just something you ask a guy you're giving a free ride to. Nothing personal."
Tain laid his ears back. When he spoke it was quiet. "I'm sorry, sir. I don't mean to be snappy, it's just that I've been in St. Louis too long and...well...things happen to you to make you bitter, you know? I really am happy you picked me up, though. Where are you headed?"
"Well, right now I'm headed to Denver. At least that's where I plan to spend tonight. Ultimately, I'll end up in San Francisco. That's when I-what?" Tain started in his seat, then looked at me with wide eyes.
"Really? Oh my God, you're going to Frisco? This-this is great! I can't be-I can't-wow!" The kid was practically hyperventilating on the other side of the cab. He looked really happy. I had to tell him my rule, although I didn't want to.
"Look, Tain. I can only take you as far as Denver. It's a rule I have, and I need to enforce it. I don't sleep with my riders. I mean, I don't take them into the motels with me. Long story, but I can't get you to San Francisco. You understand."
The raccoon looked crushed. He sagged into the chair, head down. "Oh. Maybe-maybe I could help you do stuff, like checking tires or getting gas. I don't want to be a freeloader, but I don't have much cash. I can't pay you, but I can work for it. Why won't you take me to California?" He was begging, and he sounded like an eight-year-old pup. It was breaking the heart of stone I had worked so hard to build up over the years for situations just like this one.
"It's not that. It's just that this one time, when I first got this job, I took a rider who was in exactly the same situation as you are in right now. She asked to stay the night, and I agreed. I got us a room with one bed, to save a little cash, and I slept on the floor. There was nothing intimate about it, but the motel manager called the police and reported me as a rapist or something. The cops came, arrested me and found out the girl was underage. Better yet, she had been raped the night before, just not by me. I was in jail for eight weeks, until the forensics spoke for themselves and I was let go. So you see, I just don't do it anymore, as a matter of principle. Not that you would sleep with me, and you're not a minor, but rules are rules." I realized I sounded more like a parent than I wanted to. "At least I got you a day closer, right?" I glanced at him. His eyes were wet, but he wasn't crying.
"Yeah, I understand. I don't know why I freaked out so much anyway. Sometimes I want to get there so fast, but I still have time to spare before-well, I just have time."
I'm pretty good at reading voices, and I knew he wanted to finish his sentence but couldn't for some reason. I tried to continue.
"Time before what?"
"Oh, nothing. Never mind." I decided to let it die, for the moment. I still wasn't completely against the idea of letting him, a male of legal age, stay the night. A guy just gets nervous about things like that. I didn't want to go to jail again. But what for?
Tain turned the radio on and flicked through my presets until he found one with a mix of oldies. We settled in for the drive. Once that first conversation is out of the way, there isn't much to talk about otherwise.
An hour went by and soon the oldies gave way to evening news and talk radio. Yuck, I can't believe people get paid for ranting into a microphone. Anyway, Tain was asleep next to me in the cab, silent. Gloria Gaynor came on, belting out I Will Survive.
While I drove, most of my attention was paid to the road but every once in a while I would glance over to make sure my passenger was okay. But I noticed that not only was the little raccoon okay, he was mouthing the words along with Gloria. And he was good, too. All the little nuances, the ups and downs, all the little extra words were caught by him. I smiled to myself. At least he was having fun.
Everything was fine until he started the choreography. At first it was little hand movements, but they grew into full-fledged swings and flays and things a Vegas showgirl would do. That was what finally tipped me off. All the other quirks-the studs, the cutoffs, even the light in his eyes-I finally realized my hitchhiker was a faggot.
Now, I say "faggot" only because that's the first word to come to my mind. My upbringing had been fairly strict, Christian and all that. The Ten Commandments were the rule in my house, and one certain, unsaid, Eleventh Commandment stood just as strong as the rest: "Thou Shalt Not Talk To, Look At, Or Otherwise Associate With Fags, Lest You Catch Their Disease And Go To Hell Even Quicker." The disease was not AIDS, but when I was a kid everyone thought you could catch "the gay" just like you could a cold.
So for about a minute there I sat repulsed, wondering how some fairy could've gotten me to pull over for him. But then, I thought about what a nice guy he'd been, how fragile he looked even now, as he danced in his chair to probably the gayest song on the radio. Don't get me wrong, I like disco, but some songs just vibe that way. I tried to think of something to say to him as I waited for the song to end, but nothing seemed to fit. But I had to say something. As the music faded, Tain sighed contentedly and rested his arms back in the chair. It was now or never.
"Bravo. How long have you practiced that?"
The raccoon gasped in horrified shock. I can imagine either he hadn't known he'd been doing it, or had forgotten he was in a semi-tractor next to me. He stared ahead for a few long seconds, then put his left hand over his face. I saw he was wearing a ring on his middle finger. It was simple, silver with six colored stones. It was a rainbow ring. I was pretty sure now.
"Where'd you get the ring?" I said quietly, trying to sound reasonable.
Tain just sat silent, chest heaving. He was trying hard not to cry. He took his hand away from his face and folded it in his lap. Looked at me with hurt and helplessness in his eyes. I could see this had happened before. He wasn't talking.
"I just want to know where you got it. At a store somewhere? Or maybe a boy...boyfriend? Just asking." Tain let out a tiny sob. I had pushed a button.
He collected himself and turned to face me, even though I still had to watch the road. "Yes. It-it was a boyfriend who gave this to me." He rotated the band on his finger, admiring it wistfully. "He was my first crush. We went together for three years. He was positive, and he died of AIDS. No one knew that he had it, not even me. He left it to me in his will, as a memory of himself. Goddamn bastard could've at least told me he was sick. Nice sob story, huh? That's why I'm on the road. You can just, uh...let me off anytime, at the nearest town so I can get something to eat." He sounded so resigned to the fact that I would kick him out of the truck. I wouldn't do that to him. I wouldn't do that to anybody.
"Like I told you, kid, I'll take you a day's journey closer to Frisco. Why would I throw you out now, after you've been such good company to me? Maybe, after all, I could use some interesting conversation, all the way to the coast even." What harm could it do? The kid wasn't lying, about the boyfriend and everything else. I can tell, believe you me.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw his face go from sadness to shock to delight in a matter of a second. He just smiled and stared back at the road. This time when he spoke, it was serious. "So, you know I'm gay?"
"I'm surprised it took me as long as it did to figure out you're a fag-oh, jeez, I'm sorry. Stupid outdated family values that won't go away. Please don't be offended." I was blushing, having just embarrassed myself completely. "I'm not as closed-minded as you think."
"I've had worse. Besides, just because you call me names doesn't mean you're a bigot. I like hearing about people's pasts. What makes them act the way they do, think like they do, you know. What makes them, them. Just being the way I am requires an open mind. Otherwise, I'm no better than the Jerry Falwells of this world."
"Well spoken. You sound like you've had a time of it. Care to share? You tell your story, I'll tell mine. Whaddya say?"
* * *
"Like I said, it was about four years ago that I met Carter. My boyfriend, I mean. I was sixteen, he was eighteen, and we hit it off right away. Up until then I had been going to clubs every Friday night for a long time. After we met, neither of us had interest in that anymore, so we both focused on our careers and each other and concentrated on getting a place to stay together.
"We were in Ohio for about a year and a half. Carter got transferred to Key West, of all places. So we took the opportunity and bought a little cottage on the Keys along the highway. It was so perfect. We both had jobs, although he probably made three times as much as I did.
"Another year passed without a hitch, and on the third anniversary of our first date, he proposed to me. Jesus Christ, I was only 19, but I accepted. I later learned he wanted to seal our bond before he died, for legal purposes. We never got to do that, because six months later he just..." Tain sighed slowly, a sound that told more than he could say. "He just died in his sleep. I woke up one morning and he wasn't in the room. He was on the lanai, curled up in blankets, just silent.
"You know I called the ambulance and everything, but of course there was nothing anyone could do. That was a bad day. Carter's family came down to pick up his stuff, and I couldn't afford the rent by myself. The kicker was, none of them knew about us. None of 'em even knew Carter was gay! Needless to say, they were horrified and wouldn't let me even come close to the property, even though it was half-mine. They were the ones with the money and the lawyers.
"What followed was a financial and legal mess that I couldn't win. I had no representation, no extra cash, and no place to live. Basically, I had to just pick up what little belonged to me and start hitching. I decided to head to San Francisco to see if I could shack up with someone, anyone there for a while. Four months later, I'm trying to get out of East St. Louis and you pick me up. That's kind of an extremely abbreviated story of my life, at least the part that matters. What about you?"
The kid looked across at me as if all of the shit he had just laid down was nothing. It was so matter-of-fact, the way he sounded, that it was obvious he wasn't going to let it bring him down. Although I could tell he still had it hard on his mind, and it hurt.
"I'm afraid I'm a pretty boring person. Born in Nebraska, married my high school sweetheart at 18, divorced at 20, started driving the truck, married again at 27, wife wanted to have kids and I didn't, divorced at 34, been on the road ever since. I've always been happier as a single, alone on the road, with my radio and CB to keep me company. But my life pales in comparison to yours. If I may get a little personal..."
Tain nodded.
"Do all gay people lead such interesting, complex, unstable lives? Probably a stupid question, but it's all I know."
"No, not at all," the raccoon replied without pause. "Carter and I were an exception. I said before that our relationship was near-perfect for the most part. I just still don't know why he didn't tell me he was sick. He made a journal of his private thoughts, so I could read them after he was gone. That was another thing he willed to me. That's too long a story to tell, but I know he wasn't doing cocktails for it."
"I'm sorry, cocktails?"
"Oh. Well, that's a term for the bunches of pills positive people have to take to keep themselves healthy and lengthen their lifespan. It's a virtual chemical cocktail, ranging from seven to more than 20 pills a day. Really expensive, too. Carter knew the pharmacist bills and doctor visits would tip me off, but he didn't want to worry me. I just wonder how many years we could have had if he were taking medication." Tain was lost in thought. It plagued him deeply, and I couldn't help him out. At least he was putting up a strong front.
"You know kid, you can play the 'what if' game all you want, but all you're gonna come back to are the same things you left. The facts won't change, and hindsight is always 20/20."
"Yeah, you're right. I am moving on, it's just taking a lot longer than I want it to. I'll be better when I'm better, I guess."
"That's right. After a while you just stop trying to control every aspect of your own life and just let things flow by themselves. It feels more natural."
"Hmm..." Tain mumbled. He was actually listening to what I had to say, and taking it seriously. The last time somebody did that, it was my ex-second wife, who listened when I suggested she divorce me and let some other breeder knock her up. I knew she had listened because a week later she gave me the papers. A good husband, I'm not.
"I'm sure you'll find something and someone in San Fran. It's a big city. I can see a lot of possibilities, especially with the strong community over there. You guys look out for each other, don't you?"
"That we do. It's just weird, you know? What if I do find someone? What if we hook up? I could stand the company, but I don't know if I'll be able to rebound. I don't use people, never will. Not on purpose, at least."
"Look. People need people. It's just a natural thing to want to be with someone else. Give yourself some credit, Tain. You know yourself better than anyone. You can determine if you're right with somebody." I waited for an answer, but when I looked over, the kid was concentrating again, looking at the ceiling of the cab. I poked him in the shoulder, jolting him back to reality. "What was that all about?"
"Oh, um..." Tain was blushing, but trying to hide it. "I was just thinking of Carter. I do that a lot. I was thinking about how he used to-" He cut himself off before he could finish thinking out loud. Clearly he had been doing a little fantasizing. It surprised me when he spoke again. "Carter...he had the best tongue, to be perfectly honest. It was so long, and he really knew how to use it. He gave the best oral I've ever had in my life. We sixty-nined a lot, but I could never match his pace. I never lasted long." His voice carried a giddy undercurrent reminiscent of childhood.
Wow. What had possessed him to just blurb that out? I was pretty taken back by his forward manner, but then again, if he wanted to let off steam he was more than welcome to. I decided to continue the conversation.
"I think I know what you mean," I said, trying to sound as casual as possible. "When I was married to my first wife, I had this little affair on the side. It started innocently enough. She was my waitress at a bar one night, she started flirting, and I wanted to see how far it got. In a nutshell, we ended up fucking at her house like wild animals. This girl knew how to use her mouth, too. She could take me in all the way to the sheath without gagging, and I still don't know how that's possible." I sat for a moment, feeling my jeans tighten a little as I relived that night so long ago. I still paw off to that memory every once in a while.
After a few moments of silence, Tain said in a small voice, almost as if to prove himself: "I can do that too."
I started in my seat. I thought I had heard him right, but I wasn't sure. "You can do what, again?"
"After a while, you lose your gag reflex, so you can take a cock all the way down your throat without feeling like throwing up. It takes practice, but eventually it's possible." Again, silence, more uneasy than ever, then just above a weak whisper: "I...I can show you, uh...if you want."
Tain was idly stroking his crotch through his cutoffs. Come to think of it, I was guilty of the same. A million thoughts of what he was suggesting raced through my mind, and my cock twitched despite the fact that my passenger was a guy.
I didn't know if I could talk myself out of this. "Look, Tain. I don't do that, alright? If that's all you want, then maybe I shouldn't take you to the coast. Maybe this was all a mistake, some huge mess in the making. How long did it take you to think this up, anyway? And what possessed you to think someone like me would fall for it?" I sounded less authoritative than I had intended, and the raccoon could see right through me.
"It's not made up. You asked me to tell you my story, and I did. I'm sorry about bringing up Carter, but I like to think about all the things we did together. How I felt so close to him. How he made me feel more alive, and wanted. It's just that I'm horny, you're horny, and we both need to get off. Simple: you have the dick, I have the mouth, and don't you tell me you've never gotten hard around a hitchhiker. In this part of the country, I imagine it's common. I know more than I let on, and you should take pains not to treat me like some juvenile. I can smell the arousal on you. Another gay trick of mine." He tapped the side of his head.
There you go. He had me by the balls, with no out and no options. He wasn't even trying to seduce me either. He could tell I wanted to get off. Truth be told, I wanted a mouth on me, and I didn't care who it belonged to at that moment. Any port in a storm, I guess. "Shit," I sighed. "You're right. I've had more chicks on my lap than I can count, and none of them got me as hard as I am right now."
"I know, the forbidden factor. It's so risqué, so taboo, it makes it all the more stimulating. Come on, Sam. Since you're taking me all the way to California, it's the least I can do. Besides, we're just about halfway to Denver. This will get us over the hump. I'm hard too, you know. With or without you, I'm going to get my release, even if I have to go in the back and shoot out the window. But that's the high road. Do it for me, if not for yourself."
His offer was promising, and he did bring up a good point. The tension in the truck was heavy, and if one of us didn't do something we'd both end up having to paw off, and I wasn't about to stop my rig for the better part of ten minutes just for the sake of a little privacy. It was ludicrous. "Alright, kid. Do what you have to do, but don't expect me to reciprocate. I told you, I don't do that." It still puzzled me how much that sounded like a lie.
"I don't expect shit. I can take care of myself. Now just keep driving." That was that. I was going to get sucked off by a guy, in my own truck, in the middle of the country. It should have been a bigger deal, but it really wasn't.
Tain unbuckled his belt and slid across the seat to lean over the shift knob on the floor. He straddled the shifter and kneeled to bring his head level with my waist, undoing his shorts while he did so. I was about to say something when he unzipped the fly, letting his half-hard sheath and two inches of flesh hang freely between his legs. "Oh, God. Much better," he said, then leaned over once again.
This time he lay his hands on my right thigh and started rubbing softly. I was as hard as I could get, and wanted to be free of those uncomfortable jeans. The little raccoon leaned in closer and buried his muzzle in my crotch, taking in my scent. It was so hard to keep my eyes on the road, I wanted to watch him so much.
At last he went for the fly, taking it down and relieving some pressure. He licked me through my briefs, nipping here and there. After mouthing my sheath for a while, he pulled back, revealing a wet stain where his mouth had been (although there was a good chance some of that was precum).
I was finally freed up as I felt Tain's fingers reach into my underwear and bring out my equipment, balls and all. He pulled the loose skin down until all nine inches of me jutted in the air, throbbing gently. It lay across my right thigh, just waiting for release. I've always prided myself on my size, but Tain looked a little disappointed at my bearhood. "What's wrong?" Was all I could think to ask.
"Oh, nothing. It's very nice, very big. This will be a piece of cake. Just don't kill us when you come, okay?"
I laughed out loud, my cock bouncing against my chest. "I'll try not to."
With that, Tain began stroking the shaft slowly, to get me back to full erection. That didn't take long, and after that he just kept on stroking, from sheath to head, every once in a while licking the tip so as not to let any leaking fluids go to waste. It was just as if any girl were about to take me in, and the fact that the mouth was male made no difference. When you get right down to it, there is no real difference.
I couldn't stop myself from moaning out loud when that beautiful hot muzzle slid over the head and halfway down the shaft. He had easily taken three-quarters of my cock on the first try, which both surprised me and made me a little jealous. I didn't envy his ability to deep-throat, but I did admire him for all of his talents. If he ever had trouble finding a job, he could be a dancer, a singer, or even a male stripper if he wanted. All of these, I don't even come close. I don't even like to change in locker rooms.
Little fireworks were going off inside my head. I felt Tain's tongue skillfully explore every inch of my prick. By now he was bobbing his head over my groin, the end of his nose sometimes burying itself in the fuzz of my sheath. I could feel each detail of his throat, from the backs of his teeth to the muscles of the soft palate, which seemed to pull me in further every time he bottomed out between my legs.
Clearly he was trying to get me off quickly, so I wouldn't kill us both, and I wasn't about to stop him. I took my right hand off the wheel and began to scritch his head and black ears. The little raccoon enthusiastically upped his attentions now, taking the hand that wasn't propping him up and cupped my balls, coaxing forth my seed.
His tongue focused on the underside of my sensitive tulip-shaped head, flicking and rubbing and driving me insane with need. I scratched and petted him harder, pulling his head forcefully into me. We were both moaning at this point, so close I could feel the tingle starting in my tail and moving up my spine. I hardly noticed that the hand that had been cupping my balls had moved further down, the fingers searching for my asshole. I could no more ask him to stop then the man in the moon. Hell, I couldn't even talk!
Needless to say, everything outside my windshield had become a blur. My one free hand struggled to stay placed on the wheel. I wanted so much to just shove the kid over and paw myself through to the end, but I knew that was not an option at highway speed. Shoving my seatbelt behind my shoulder, I slid down in my chair to give the raccoon some room to find my tailhole.
After a few seconds of probing, his middle claw found the tight opening and pierced it open, shoving itself in up to the second knuckle. He knew where to push and prod, and pretty soon he had found my sweet spot. I didn't even know about how sensitive my prostate was at the time; I just thought it was another type of cancer a guy could get.
"Fuck, just do it, just fuckin' do it kid," I growled through gritted fangs. I just couldn't take the buildup. Tain kept pressing on the gland like a button, and every time he did I swear I almost went over. He got the message and shoved a second finger in to join the first. Both pressed down hard and stayed down. I practically melted from the pleasure and was ready for the release when it finally came.
Tain buried his muzzle and clamped his volcano of a mouth down around all nine inches of me. He methodically worked his throat around my shaft, teasing the head and sending me forcefully over the edge. I felt shots of cum exit my body and shoot straight down the kid's throat. He wasn't even swallowing, just taking it all in and making sure that not a drop spilled. He sat still, impaled like a leech, sucking all the while. I had to close my eyes for a moment to just feel the rest of my wad draining into Tain, all the tension evaporated away.
I reopened my eyes and pulled the rig off of the shoulder, where it had drifted during my orgasm. Looking up, Kansas mile marker 84 whizzed past me on the right. I realized with mild surprise that we were almost into Colorado. That little raccoon had occupied me through a whole fucking state!
Assuming I had given all I had to give, Tain removed his fingers and released my spent member, applying a gentle cleaning suction as it slid out of his maw. He licked his lips and buckled himself back in. Smoothing his fur back, he looked over at me.
"So, was that as good as some of your girls?"
"Are you kidding me?" I tried not to pant. "None of my female passengers could take me all the way in, let along shove their fingers up my ass! That thing you did just now is unparalleled in my book."
Tain looked proud of himself. "Like I told you, it's a developed skill. Glad to be of service, at least. Sam, do you have a towel?"
"Sure, in the back. What do you need it for?" I asked.
"Oh, nothing," he replied, and promptly pulled his own cock out of his shorts, which were still undone. "Just have to take care of this." He leaned back into the chair, spreading his legs and pawing himself quickly. He was pretty decent-sized; six-and-a-half inches and narrower than me, but above average for his build.
I started to object, thought better of it and decided the kid had a right to it. After all, how could he not be hard after what he had just done to me? I fell silent and let him do his thing. It wouldn't have mattered much, because before I knew it Tain had stiffened up and was pounding his coonhood, shooting white streams all over his face, neck and chest. He exhaled sharply and relaxed again, taking the towel and wiping himself down.
"Looks like you've gotten a lot of practice."
"Twice a day, every day since I was eight. That's..." he paused to do the math. "...four thousand six hundred forty-seven times. It's a lot when you think about it that way, I guess."
"Christ, I think you would be pretty sore from that."
"You get used to it. Moderation is the key."
That struck me so funny I couldn't help but burst out laughing. Tain joined me, until our chests ached and tears streamed from our eyes.
* * *
The rest of the way to Denver passed quickly and comfortably. We talked about a lot of things, and I found out the kid was a lot smarter than he seemed. We talked politics, entertainment, music, sex (only talked, mind you), and Tain's plans in Frisco.
There was one thing, however, we didn't talk about but nevertheless was on my mind. I wanted, in some way, to repay the raccoon for what he did in the truck that day. I was open to it, but didn't know how to handle the situation. We did have one more day to travel, so that would give me time to think.
"Is this it?" Tain asked as we pulled into the gravel parking lot of a beat up motel outside the metro.
"That's it. Had the same room every week for the past 20 years or so. Kind of like a second home. Wait here, I'll go get the keys." I hopped to the ground, stretched and brushed myself off before walking into the lobby. A bell rang as I entered, a sound I had become used to over the years. Margo, the manager, came out from the back and smiled when she saw me.
"Room for one? I've been expecting you."
"Actually, I'll be paying for two tonight, Margo."
The round little woman eyed me carefully, sniffing the air around me. "Two, huh? You've been fooling around again, haven't you? Get lucky?"
"Yeah, really lucky."
"So where is the little slut? Margo said, trying to feign disdain and failing miserably at it. She didn't care, but she tried to act like an adult about it.
"The 'slut' is in the rig, and he wants to go to bed. If you could give me the keys, please-"
"Wait." Margo furrowed her brow in thought for a while, and I watched her face go from confusion to disbelief to shock until she finally gave up. The doorbell rang again and she looked past me. I turned to see Tain dragging my enormous suitcase in through the door.
"Where's our room? Hopefully on the first floor?" He asked innocently. I rolled my eyes to the ceiling and covered my head with a hand. I looked through my fingers to see Margo's jaw drop.
Oh my God she mouthed to me, exaggerating each word. She was starting to giggle, I could tell.
"Just give me the damn keys," I muttered through gritted teeth. Margo complied and ran into the back, probably to keep from hyperventilating.
As soon as we were in the room, I turned on the light and realized with mixed anxiety and amusement that it was a single, with only one bed.
"I'll have to go out and get some blankets. You do whatever you want."
Tain was puzzled. "Blankets? What for? It's like 80 degrees in here!"
"Well, you can take the bed, and I'll sleep on the floor. Done it a million times in the truck."
"Nonsense. I'm the hitcher, so I'll take the floor. Better yet, why don't we both sleep in the bed? I don't take up much room, and I don't snore."
"Tain, I-that is, er..." I couldn't come up with a good excuse to refuse his offer. Besides, a warm body in bed next to me would be a welcome change. I hadn't slept in a bed with another since my last divorce. God, that had been a long time. As for an ulterior motive, well, we were both tuckered out and I doubted Tain would try anything else. He wasn't that kind of a person. So, I agreed. I could use the company, and I was fond of the kid to boot. Actually, I half-wanted him to do something. Call it a freak thought, but he had touched something inside of me, no pun intended. He had, in a way, opened my eyes.
"You win, Tain. I get the bathroom first, since I'm the dirtiest."
"Fine with me. I'll turn the bed down and find something on TV. Sam-are you sure you're fine with this? I mean, I don't want to impose." He looked so innocent there, sitting on one corner of the bed. He was just as lonely as I get sometimes. How could I deny him simple friendship, when it was something we both needed? I felt younger than I had in years. I owed it to him.
I gave him my best fatherly smile. "Don't mention it. What's the worst that could happen?" I said, knowing full well that anything could.
~FIN~pt.1
7-7-03