Date: Sun, 16 May 2004 03:53:23 -0500
From: gwalker66@hotmail.com
Subject: Truck Stop part 1

Disclaimer:
This story is told entirely from my personal experiences and my imagination.
There is only one resemblance to any real person living or dead and that's
me. I hereby grant myself explicit permission to write whatever the heck I
want to about my life. This story does not yet, but will show limited acts
of sexual encounters between boys and boys, and possibly boys and girls who
are underage, so if it is illegal in your state, town, province-- whatever--
to view this type of material then get off this site. Otherwise, have at!

Truck Stop

What's your bedroom like? Does it have posters on the wall, or books on a
shelf? Maybe you have a stack of CD's next to your stereo, or an alarm clock
on a nightstand. Well, my room is...different from all that. My room moves
and I share it with my Dad. During the summer I spend three months with my
dad on the road, in a semi. I sleep in the back half truck. There are bunk
beds there, a couple of outlets one is for dad's alarm clock and one I use
for my laptop. I got it for Christmas this year. Its got all kinds of bells
and whistles on it, like, a dvd player, and a network port, something the
desktop at home doesn't have. Dad and mom got it for me for these long
trips. Last summer we drove over fifty-four thousand miles. That's figuring
six hundred miles a day seven days a week.

Sometimes we go more than that sometimes less, and occasionally we'll stop
at a national monument or at a national park. My favorites are the big
forest ones, like the Red Wood National Forest in California. The old pueblo
missions in New Mexico are cool too. My dad delivers all kinds of stuff for
an Imports company. He gets all kinds of weird stuff like one time he
delivered an entire shipment of little plastic screws for small toys or
something. Another time we dropped off forty-six entertainment centers made
out bamboo from china. That's where I got my computer, I think anyway. He
gets discounts on stuff that he delivers and I bet he got the computer that
way. I mean it's a pretty nice computer.

He has a new system on his truck to make turn deliveries easier. We call
that a turnover because that's when we turn over the shipment to the
receiver. It uses a high speed internet connection to send the signatures
and all that back to the company HQ. The cool thing about it is that because
he owns the truck, I get to use the internet whenever I want. It's sooo
cool! Dad comes in two days to get me. School got out yesterday and I got my
grade card today. I got more A's then B's and More B's than C's so Mom gave
me permission to go. I'm so excited, and my friend Anthony is coming over
tonight so we can talk all about it.

Anthony walked up to Robin's house and knocked just as the big grandfather
clock in the Singer home chimed once for half past five o'clock. Robin had
been watching television and woke up leaning awkwardly to one side. He stood
up and open and closed his hand a couple times, it was in the process of
going numb. He leaned back, stretching and yawning. His shoulder was sorta
wet; he seemed to have drooled on it. There was a tingle in his pants, he
had to pee. He decided not to keep Anthony waiting though, because he might
be in the bathroom for a bit.

"Coming!" he called.

Robin's mother was at work and wouldn't be home until seven. She usually
leaves work by six, but today she's picking up pizza and a movie. Robin
asked her to get the new Peter Pan. He saw in theaters with Bob, but Anthony
hasn't seen it yet.

Robin peeked through the little magnifying glass in the door. Anthony's
distorted face peered back at him with a grin that said open the door silly!
Robin opened the door and Anthony practically fell into the room.

"What is all this?" Robin asked.

"Well, this is got my comics and my anime's in it. And...this is my
blanket...and a pillow, complete with Simba pillowcase, mmm change of
clothes...uh...that's it."

"Planning on moving in?" Robin smirked.

"Oh, like you have fun stuff to do around here, and by the way did you ask
your mom to get a movie? I bet you forgot." Anthony said, lugging his things
into Robin's room.

"For your information, not only did I remember to ask, but she's getting
Peter Pan."

"The new one?" Anthony asked, a queer little smile tugging at the corner of
his mouth.

"Yep," a cocky Robin replied.

Well then, all is forgiven," Anthony smiled back.

Robin put Anthony's bag full of comics on his desk and helped him lay out
his blankets. Robin didn't understand it, but Anthony always preferred the
floor to the bed. Robin would have slept on the floor or let Anthony climb
in with him, though his bed wasn't really built for two. Anthony however,
always politely refused, claiming that he didn't like the under sheet on
Robin's bed, and that his own blankets were more comfortable anyway. Anthony
always brought the same blanket, it was his comforter, and used to be his
mothers. It was a funny story to hear how his mother had gotten the blanket.
When she was in college and before she was married, Anthony's father was in
a study group with her. She lived pretty sparsely because school took up
most of her budget. Anthony's dad discovered that she only had one blanket
to sleep with. So he showed up two days later a big fluffy blanket in his
arms. It was covered in wide pastel stripes in rainbow colors. The blanket
was less fluffy now, faded and had stains on the bottom side, but Anthony
loved it.

When they had finished laying out the blanket Anthony took off his shoes and
set them in the corner. The big grandfather clock was chiming six o'clock
and the boys tried to think of something to do for an hour before Mrs.
Singer would be home.

"Well nothing good's on," Robin sighed turning off the television. "What do
you wanna do?" he asked Anthony.

"Mmm...have you finished the tree house floor yet?"

"No, but I've got the boards and nails though. Do you wanna go work on
that?"

"Sure, and you know if we finish do you think your mom'll let us sleep out
there?" Anthony said, a little excited.

"Probably not, but lets go work on it anyway."

Outside the evening was warm and Robin's forehead was already a little
sweaty. He went to the shed and pulled out two of the bandannas he got for
his thirteenth birthday last fall. One used to be red but was fading sorta
pink, and the other was purple fading sort of lavender or something. Not the
manliest colors but he hadn't really noticed. He tossed the purple/lavender
one to Anthony and they headed out into the yard. Robin tied his on pirate
style, tied in back and then the loose part tucked under the knot. Anthony
did his Indian style, folded up and tied in back.

Robin lived in a remodeled farmhouse on the edge of a slowly modernizing
farming town in Indiana. There were no malls in town, no big businesses, and
only a few twenty-four hour stores. It was big enough though that there was
a Wal Mart and a car dealership or two. But being away from the bright city
lights, the stars in the darkening east could be seen already.
It was humid out and by the time they'd walked to the tree line where the
big oak grew. Robin was uncomfortably hot. As Anthony started up the rope
ladder Robin pulled off his black tee shirt and tossed it by the trunk. It
was too early in the summer to have a dark tan, but faint tan lines circled
his smooth upper arms and neck. He unbuckled his shiny silver watch and set
it down with the shirt. He rolled his pants back down so he didn't scratch
up his legs. Anthony was wearing shorts, and already had a few scratches
just from getting on the first branch. Robin kicked off his shoes, grabbed
the rope and started climbing.

About fifteen feet off the ground the first branches of the ancient tree
grew. They were thick and sturdy and attached to the lowest of these was the
rope ladder. Several levels of branches higher there was secured the base
planks of the tree house. With his own money Robin had purchased an old
telephone pole that had fallen over in rainstorm. Though, to weak to stand
upright, it was perfect for the tree house. For thirty dollars, he had
gotten the pole plus a few cuts from the lumberyard. Mr. Singer suggested he
cut it lengths wise so he had two thirty-five foot long half circles. Then
Robin got them cut in quarters. So he had eight about nine foot long
sections. The boards were twelve inches across. When the boards were laid
flat side up, together it made about an eight foot by nine-foot floor.
Plenty big for Robin and Anthony. Six of the eight boards were already in
the tree and four were nailed together. Then hammer and nails were in a box
resting on the attached four planks.

Anthony held the boards together while Robin nailed. The finished the
remaining two boards and Anthony swung down to tie the seventh and eighth
boards to the rope to pull them up. Robin guessed they must be made of
petrified oak as heavy as they were. When he had wrestled them up high
enough to rest them on the lowest branch, Anthony, little panther that he
was, had clawed his way up onto the first branch and help Robin heave the
planks higher. A few seconds later Anthony got caught an involuntary
movement of the boards and started losing his balance. He grabbed at the
branch for support, and found it, However he had let go of the boards and
the awkward end of them swung around and caught him in the ribs, hard. Robin
suddenly left with the entire weight of the boards to himself nearly toppled
forward. Before he did though the boards stopped against something and he
was able to find his footing again. As soon as he could Robin hooked one of
the knots in the rope in the crotch of a branch to secure the planks. He
hopped down from the tree house platform and helped Anthony, who was wincing
and breathing through clenched teeth, move the boards off of him. Anthony
was shaking, and now Robin noticed the four-inch wide and six-inch long
bloody spot on Anthony's white shirt.

"Why'd it have to be white," Anthony tried to joke, but it came out choppy
and garbled, partly because he was trying to hold back tears.

It looked as if the tree house building was done for now. Before helping
Anthony down, Robin secured the Planks a little more permanently. When they
had reached the bottom, Robin pushed up Anthony's soaked shirt. A wide but
fairly shallow patch was scraped off. It looked more painful then anything
of serious damage. Lets get you to the house. The short trip across the yard
seemed to take much longer then trip earlier. Anthony stumbled a bit now and
then and had to lean on Robin for support. It occurred to Robin that in the
same situation, he might have cried.
It was past seven now, and Mrs. Singer would be home soon. Robin wanted to
get Anthony cleaned up before then so that she wouldn't flip at the sight of
him. Robin took Anthony into the bathroom and sat him down on the toilet
seat.

"Sorry...," Anthony started.

"It isn't your fault, you don't need to apologize," Robin said as he soaked
and rung a dark washcloth.

Anthony pulled off his shirt and tossed it into the sink. Robin couldn't
remember if it was hot water or cold he was supposed to wash it with, so he
turned the knob in between and turned on the water all the way. He gave
Anthony the washcloth and he seemed relieved by the cool touch to the
scrape.

"We'll have to get you something else to wear," Robin pointed out.

"Yeah I guess, I didn't bring another shirt, just something to sleep in,"
Anthony said, wiping up the remaining blood.

"I've got some white shirts you can wear, and I can probably let you take it
home too, so you don't get reamed for ruining this one," he pointed to the
shirt that was no longer deeply stained, just more or less red tinged all
over, he figured he choose the wrong temperature.

"Thanks, um, got something to dry this off with," the blood mostly cleaned
up now, "and maybe a really big band-aid?" Anthony said smiling a little and
set down the washcloth in the sink.

"Here," Robin handed him another of the dark cloths, "I'll get that shirt,"
Robin said turning to leave. Just then he heard the door shut, and his mom
announce her arrival. "Yeah, we're up here!" Robin hollered. He mouthed
c'mon to Anthony and they hurried back into Robin's bedroom. Robin flew
through his shirts hanging in the closet, searching out a shirt for Anthony,
something his mom wouldn't recognize. He tossed him a forest green tee with
a white Chinese dragon on it. He never wore it because it was too short on
him, when he reached up it exposed four inches of his belly. He hoped that
it would work on Anthony. Anthony pulled it over his head, wincing as it
slid over the scrape. He thought suddenly of his own shirt, shoes, and watch
way out by the tree...he hoped it didn't rain or something, he'd just have
to go get them if that happened. It wasn't that far to the tree, but in the
rain... He pulled out another shirt for himself and slipped it on.

There were footsteps on the stairs and then a close of a door. Mrs. Singer
was in her room changing out of her work clothes. Clothes! Robin scurried
into the bathroom and turned off the water. He rung out the shirt and
washcloths, tossed the washcloths in the hamper and then dashed back to his
room.

"I've got a plastic bag we can keep this in until we can get rid of it,"
Robin said.

"Okay, lets just look busy when your mom peeks in," Anthony suggested. Robin
turned on his television and started surfing channels.

Robin's television was opposite his the head of his bed, and the only
comfortable way to watch was to sit on the bed properly. Robin sat with his
knees pulled up close, and Anthony laid down with his arms folded behind his
head. Sure enough the shirt was too small and three inches of Anthony's
stomach lay bare. Robin noticed this in a glance, and for some reason kept
peering at it while he searched out Seinfeld on TV.

Anthony wasn't that much older than Robin was, maybe four months but that's
a fair amount of time for a seventh grader. Anthony was actually held back
from what Robin understood. Robin was born to late in the fall to get into
kindergarten right away, but Anthony was born in May so he started earlier.
So Robin hadn't met Anthony until he was held back in the third grade
because of difficulty in reading and math. They didn't meet right away; in
fact they'd only been best friends for two years. Sixth grade, in the first
class of the year, his homeroom teacher had them pair up and play one of
those `get to know you' games. They found out that they were both into
anime, camping, and loved reading.

At this moment though, Robin was thinking more about what Anthony looked
like. He wasn't Hispanic or Asian, but his complexion was smooth and he had
straight black hair. He wasn't small either, but not big, he had a look
about him like he curled up into an easy to store stuffed bear. He had green
eyes and a little elf nose, not long, thin, and pointy, but smaller, and
like a little button. He always seemed to have a tan too, even in the
winter. Robin remembered being jealous of that at one time, but then felt
silly and tried to ignore it. That feeling came back to him now, though not
as strongly. It was more of an admiration, however, instead of jealousy. His
thoughts again returned to the showing of tummy visible there above his
waistline, and for a second he wondered what was beyond there. It was gone
just as quick, without realizing what he was pondering, because his thoughts
were interrupted by his mother's voice.

"Pizza's done," she called from the kitchen downstairs.

"Alright!" Anthony jumped up, and headed for the door, leaving Robin on the
bed.

He looked up as if just now realizing where he was, and got up to go
himself.

The pizza was great, and Mrs. Singer didn't even notice the shirt Anthony
was barrowing. She had gotten Peter Pan like Robin had asked and about eight
o'clock they started it. Robin always liked the story of Peter Pan. The
original book and play show the story more like Robin would have it if he
could do it his way. In the Disney version it's all happy and the redskins
and pirates are more for comedy then actual plot development. The original
has the pirates and redskins more sinister, and smarter. The lost boys are
described more, and the concept of Never Land is better understood as well.
Overall the movie follows the book well, and Anthony fell in love with it
just like Robin. Mrs. Singer sent them to bed even though there was no real
need, just the mother in her. They talked about they're favorite this and
thats about the movie. The scary crocodile and the cool tree hide out of the
lost boys were they favorites between the two.

Robin pulled the door shut behind him like he did every night and headed
over to his end table to turn on the little lamp that rested there. Anthony
beat him to it, that nervous half smile of his showing in the corner of his
mouth. Robin pulled off his shirt and grabbed an undershirt to sleep in.
Anthony was busy rummaging through his bag pulling and pushing things
around, pulling a toothbrush out and whatever he had to sleep in. Robin
undid the clasp on his jeans and unzipped them. He pushed them down to is
ankles and then stepped out of them. He, unlike Anthony, had been protected
from the rough bark, so his legs were smooth with only a little fuzz of hair
here and there. He wore a mix of boxers and briefs, today blue boxers, and
so didn't bother changing them or putting on some pajama bottoms. The little
button on them had fallen off in the wash, but Robin didn't notice.

Anthony had managed to get his shorts off and rearrange and repack his bag.
He stood facing away from Robin a pair of boxers rolled up in his hand.
Robin, just finished dressing, turned around. Anthony not sensing the prying
eyes peering at him from behind pulled down his boxers, and stepped out of
them. Out of the corner of his eye he suddenly realized that Robin was
looking at him. He quickly unfurled his boxers and tried to put them on to
fast. His awkward position of one foot caught in material and losing his
balance made him stumble. Just then Robin glimpsed what he was only thinking
about earlier. It wasn't all that different from his own, assuming that
Robin had seen himself from behind. Anthony pulled them up and then adjusted
the waistband and something else up front and then turned around as if a bit
dizzy. Though he was more embarrassed really.

They played hearts for a while, and then a game of Chess. At about eleven
Anthony yawned, then stretched in one long back stretching motion.

"Time for bed?" Anthony asked, his words sounding funny from the tail end of
the yawn.

Robin sighed, "Yeah," he blinked a couple of times, then started putting
away the chessboard.

He stood up as he handed the box to Anthony who was sitting closest to the
shelf it went on. It wasn't close enough for him to reach the spot so he
leaned off the chair onto one knee. This put him right about eye level with
Robin's boxers as Robin stretched his arms up, and arched his back leaning
backward. Right at this moment Robin's penis fell out of his boxers, just
several inches from Anthony's face. Robin wasn't excited, so he wasn't at
full length. Anthony set the game down and turned to get up, only to be
faced with this sight.

"Uh...," Anthony stuttered out loud.

Robin recovered from his stretch and immediately realized what happened. He
reached down and shoved it back inside. Both sets of cheeks turned red, and
Anthony got a little stiff. Robin turned around immediately opened his
underwear drawer. he grabbed what was right on top. He turned his back to
Anthony and switched as fast as he could. He then realized he had pulled on
a pair of gray white briefs. They were fine as far as comfort, but not what
you want to wear with another boy in the room.

Too embarrassed to change again, he said, "Yeah...sorry, g'night," and
crawled into bed. Anthony stood up and checked to see that Robin's face was
away from him before he stuck his hand in his underwear to readjust himself.

"Okay, night," Anthony muttered in reply and snuggled into his make shift
bed on the floor.


End of Part One

This is not my first story that I have written, but it is my first on Nifty.
It is composed of my experiences and those of my imagination. I personally
have never been in a diesel rig, nor have ever been close enough to look
inside. So if I get a little creative with what one looks like or can do,
please forgive me. Also If you like what you read or want to make
suggestions (that I don't guarantee I will follow) email me at
gwalker66@hotmail.com include the words 'truck stop' in your subject line or
your email may be deleted.