A Tale of Two Trucks (10 page)

“Really?” I asked, hoping against hope. He answered by pressing closer against me, rubbing his thick thighs against mine and, in the process, making me acutely aware of his massive manhood. In fact it was hard to miss, since it was poking me right in the Valley of the Moons….

“I think the loggers forgot to trim one branch,” he teased. “Now, as much as I enjoyed being your teddy bear… I was hoping we could get around to something a little more…
adult
. It’s Sunday, so we’ve got all the time in the world, and I can think of at least
one
thing we could do that’s even better than watchin’ cartoons, y’know?”

I was shocked to find him not only ready and willing, but downright
eager
, to explore the Wonderful World of Gaydom! But there was just one tiny little problem….

“Um… Joe, I’m so sorry, but… it’s been a long time for me too,” I confessed, hoping I wasn’t turning away my one and only opportunity. “I… I’m as tight as a virgin. It’ll take some time to get ready….”

“Oh!” Joe said, immediately backing off, both literally and figuratively.

“But that’s not to say we can’t enjoy some
other
activities,” I hastily added.

I found that I was wearing my nightshirt and nothing else. It gave me pause to think he’d stripped me down last night, on top of carrying me upstairs. Anyway, I pulled up the hem to expose my lower half, reached down to apply a liberal amount of lube between my thighs (I always kept some in my bedside table, just in case), then reached behind me to touch his manhood and fondle it for a moment. He groaned as I rubbed up and down the length of it, then I guided it between my slippery thighs. He was large, but not inordinately so, I realized with a private sigh of relief. When I started to massage and squeeze him with the soft flesh, he gasped in surprise.

“
Oh
! Oh God, Mike…. Tha-that’s so good!” he said, gripping my shoulder with one hand and my hip with the other.

“You can move, if you wanna,” I offered, making sure I was keeping a comfortable pressure against his organ as he thrust against my rear end. I tightened my hold on him occasionally, which made him cry out with pleasure.

“Ah! Oh…. Oh, God! I… ah… I’m gonna…
come
!” he panted. I held his quivering member tightly between my thighs, and a few seconds later his hot male milk was shooting out in ropy strands, covering my skin with its lava-like stickiness.

“Wow!” he gasped, thoroughly satisfied.

Just listening to his voice was enough to make me perk up, and to feel his Mount Manhood erupting against me was exquisite ecstasy. My own Mini Me was leaking shamelessly as it climbed up the mountain of happiness, but it needed a little help to reach the summit, so I took it in my hands and started pulling it up.

“Let me help you with that,” Joe offered, and I felt his large hand wrap itself around my most sensitive organ. He was very gentle, so it actually took a little longer than it might have otherwise; however, his tenderness made it that much more special and fulfilling. I mewled as I came, my back arched against his chest.

“Yep. I could
definitely
get used to this!” he declared, much to my delight.

Chapter 15

W
E
lounged lazily in bed for a while, exploring each other’s body with our hands. Joe had pulled off my nightshirt after making me promise I wouldn’t scream again.

“It was sort of a wake-up call, y’know,” he informed me, “when you screamed like that! I mean, most guys would be, like, ‘Hey, knock it off!’ or something, but they wouldn’t be so embarrassed at just being seen. But it was like I’d walked into a women’s bathroom! It made me realize that… well, that you’re
different
, y’know—almost like a girl. And that I need to be more sensitive about it.”

I might have refuted that description, except I was distracted by Joe running his big, rough hands all over my skin. I knew exactly how strong those hands were, having seen what they could do on the worksite, but they were so gentle as they stroked my ribs, my waist, and my buns—which he playfully squeezed—that I thought I would melt like a lump of chocolate left in the car on a summer day.

“Well, mostly, I was embarrassed,” I explained, trying to stay focused on his words even as my hands played over the taut muscles of his chest, “because I’d been… getting a little excited, y’know… from wrestling with you.”

“Really?” he laughed. “Doesn’t take much, huh?”

“Hey, now! You should understand what it’s like,” I protested. “I’ve gone for so long without
any
sort of physical contact that… well, honestly,
every little thing you do just turns me on
!”

I sang that last bit of the Police song, although I’d garbled the lines somewhat. Joe laughed and pulled me closer.

“I
do
understand! I think that’s why… I wasn’t weirded out about, y’know… gettin’ it on with you. I’ve just been through such a dry spell that… well, I hope I’m not pressuring you, but I could really use some!”

That reminded me I needed to open up my back entrance, although I was so comfortable in his arms, I was loath to get up.

“About that…. I should get a shower and make some preparations….”

“Well, don’t let me stop ya!” Joe laughed. “I should probably shower too,” he added, and got up first. He yawned and stretched, then caught me staring at him. He had thrown off all his clothes after our first round of intimacy, so now I was finally privy to the full-length physique of my own personal Greek god. He was truly amazing!

“Lucky for you, I don’t mind being seen,” he said, grinning. “All right, your turn!”

“Wha—?” I cried out as he yanked the covers off me. I cringed, but before I could grab the pillow again, he’d sat back down beside me. Looking over my body, he ran his hands along my sides as though he wanted to make love to me right then and there, and I nearly fainted again. My heart was racing a mile a minute!

“Y’know, even if you don’t have boobs, you’re really beautiful,” was his frank assessment. I couldn’t come up with a single word to respond to that. Then he leaned over me and whispered, “Why didn’t we do this a lot sooner? All this time, we could’ve been enjoying so much more….”

As he spoke, he drew closer and closer to me until—at last—his lips were touching mine, and I hungrily devoured everything he had to offer.

I
T
took me a while to prepare my rear entrance, and by the time I came out of the bathroom, Joe was waiting with a plateful of sausages and scrambled eggs and another plate piled high with toast. Which was a good thing, since I was ravenous, having hardly eaten last night. As we munched hastily, each eyeing the other’s bulging boxers, I took the time to spear a sausage with my fork and—after making sure he was looking my way—dragged it slowly and tantalizingly over my tongue, in and out of my mouth. Joe actually dropped his fork, he was so entranced!

“Oh God, Mike…,” he mumbled, retrieving his fork, “you make that look so… so….”

“Yummy?” I supplied with a wicked grin. “Just wait until I get around to eating
you
!”

Which I did, soon enough. I pulled out all the stops in pampering his Lightning Rod—as I told him I was going to call it, in reference to Zeus, the king of the Greek gods—and he was moaning and panting before long. My tongue danced along the length of his sausage, tickled its most sensitive tip, and eventually pulled it into the warmth of my drooling mouth. It was so incredibly wonderful to finally do all the things I’d been fantasizing about! And to have him start leaking in appreciation was the icing on the cake. But I didn’t want him to finish just yet.

“Are you ready for this?” I tantalized him, straddling his hips.

“Oh,
yeah
!
Mike, c’mon, don’t tease me!” he groaned, as I pointed his Lightning Rod straight up at my Tunnel of Love. I couldn’t wait another moment, either, and lowered myself down to be impaled on his hot rod, then rode it feverishly, loving how it filled me up and stroked me in just the right places. As I bounced and gyrated, Joe grabbed my jiggling Mini Me and pumped it so I could concentrate on the other side of our human equation. I came to the conclusion that Joe + Mike =
fantastic
!

After getting filled up with Joe’s sincerest form of thanks, I lay down on his chest—spent, sated, and satisfied—with our bodies still connected. He held me tenderly in his arms, rubbing my back as our breathing slowed.

“Mike….”

“Yeah?”

“I think I’m gay.”

“Why on earth would you think
that
?”

“Well, I… I really enjoyed this!”

“Well,
duh
! Of course you did. You’d probably enjoy doing it this way with a woman too!”

“Oh. I hadn’t thought of that….”

I giggled and pushed myself up so I could look into his face.

“But if you’re happy enough doing this with
me
, there’s no need to go looking for a woman, right?”

“Yeah! Perfectly happy. More than happy, in fact!”

His spacey grin was enough to send me to the moon.

A
T
first our relationship was like “friends with benefits,” but Joe swore he’d felt nothing toward Faith on their date and attributed it to already being in love with
me
.

“I know it sounds stupid,” he said one night as we lay on the guest room bed (after he’d rammed me very thoroughly on its edge), “but I’d always felt something special about you, something…
unique
. I’d just chalked it up to your being gay, once I knew for sure you were, but really… I think my heart already
knew
you were special… that you’re my… soulmate. I was just too stupid to realize it!”

I was too overcome to respond for a minute.

“Y-you really think… we’re
soulmates
?” I asked, in barely a whisper.

“Yeah… yeah, I do!” he answered, then rolled over so he could look into my face. “I’m sorry I didn’t realize it sooner. I could’ve spared you so much pain…. I just wish I could make it up to you somehow!”

I gazed up into his blue-gray eyes, then wrapped my arms around his neck.

“You can,” I told him. “Just… don’t ever leave me!”

“I won’t,” he promised, sealing it with a kiss.

T
HE
guys at work were all happy for him, although they teased him that it was about time he switched sides since he was such a “good dancer.” We were going to the bar one Saturday night to see them and practice his moves, when Joe interrupted my wardrobe selection process.

“We’re going someplace
special
tonight, before we meet up with the guys,” he said mysteriously, “so I want you to dress up extra-nice for the occasion.”

“You just want to see me gussied up with my feather boa, don’t you?” I accused.

“Yep!” he shot back with a grin.

As he drove closer to our secret destination, I began to get nervous; when he turned a particular corner, I knew where we were going.

“Joe! Joe, you’re not taking me to Cocktales, are you?” I demanded.

“Well, since you asked,” he drawled, “yes, that’s where we’re going. I thought it would be nice to pay your old friend a little
visit
.”

From his tone, I ascertained this would be no ordinary social call, so I preened my feathers and tried to control my breathing. I was dressed to kill, thankfully, if the occasion called for it! We pulled into the parking lot of the establishment Joe had visited once before to teach my old friend a lesson, and he came around to my side of the truck (his truck tonight) to open my door. Joe was a true gentleman in that regard!

I thought I could sense a collective intake of breath as I walked in first while Joe held the door for me, but I steeled my nerves. Ah! There he was. Brandon was in his usual booth (what used to be
our
usual booth) with his blond jailbait boy toy. I made a beeline for them and was only a few feet away when Brandon saw me. A split second later, he saw Joe and nearly jumped out of his skin.

“Hello, Brandon,” I said in a tone as cold as ice.

“Uh… h-hi,” he managed to reply.

“So
this
is Brandon,” Joe said deliberately.

“Yes. Brandon, this is Joe,” I told him, in an overly formal introduction. Brandon could only gulp and stare.

“I just wanted to tell you,” Joe continued, “that Mike is
my
man now. And anyone that messes with
Mike
,” he punctuated by cracking his knuckles impressively, “messes with
me
. Got that, Brandon?”

The coward nodded like a bobblehead, and I turned and stalked out, the white boa streaming behind me in my wake, pausing only to let Joe open the door for me again.

Chapter 16

W
ITH
some prompting from Joe, I was able to muster enough gumption to go back to Going Out again, which is almost what it sounds like. I’d forgotten how much fun it is to go out, especially when you’re
with
someone. Even though I’m really a homebody, Joe was ready to break out of his old rut and try new things—and not just in the bedroom—so we started going to various restaurants around town.

“I’ve been wanting to come here ever since they opened,” he admitted when we were seated in an Indian curry restaurant that had been around for at least five years. “I just couldn’t get any of the guys from work to come with me, and it’s no fun eating out by myself.”

“I know! I hardly ever ate out after I… well, when I was alone,” I agreed.

“Just say it, Mike,” Joe prodded, gently but firmly. “It’s okay. You’re over him now, right?”

“Right.” I drew a deep breath and restated, “I hardly ever ate out after I broke up with Brandon.”

Joe reached over to pat my hand, making my half-filled stomach turn somersaults inside me—in a good way, of course. You’d think he wouldn’t want me to refer to my ex any more than I had to, but he was helping me to
truly
get over the experience, not by burying it but by bringing it out into the open and facing it. And just by being with me, Joe gave me courage. On our second night at Going Out, that guy who’d groped me was there, and when I told Joe about the incident, he made sure to “chat” with the creep when he headed to the bathroom. I always felt absolutely safe when I was with Joe, and he beamed with pleasure when I told him so. It made him feel macho and want to take care of me even more—which, naturally, I just lapped up!