Date: Wed, 30 Jan 2002 14:05:48 -0800
From: Rick Beck <bjwalkerjr@37.com>
Subject: Billie Joes Journal Chapter 7

Chapter 7
Raymond & The Trucker

	The seat bounced up and down as the truck bounced, and Raymond and
I bounced together with it.  Neither of us was all that big, but we filled
the passenger area of the seat beside the "doghouse," a black box-like
affair that housed the highest part of the engine, which sat directly below
us.

	Hank, the trucker, was going to Salt Lake City after making a stop
to pick up furniture in Lake Oswago just south of Portland.  He'd picked
Raymond up at a truck stop near Spokane the day before. Raymond was heading
south.

	They talked like they had known each other for years, but Raymond
was one of those cocky, know it all, loud mouth guys you love to hate.  I
must admit, after he put his arm over the back of the seat and his hand
kept bouncing against the back of my arm, I was getting flustered.  He
chattered and leaned on the doghouse talking to the driver, but the two of
us didn't have much to say to one another.

	"Ray boy, why don't you sit on the doghouse a while. Give Billie
Joe some sittin' room."

	"He's all right, Hank," he said, looking over his back at me.
"Besides you promised we could stop so I could make some more money."

	"Ray boy, we don't talk business in front of strangers. You know
better."

	Raymond looked over his shoulder at me again.  "He doesn't look all
that strange. Besides, He can get out if he's the bashful type, but I'm
guessing he wouldn't mind making some cash too."

	I waited for Hank to object or say something to Raymond. He didn't.

	"We going to stop or what?" Raymond persisted.

	"You ask Billie Joe if he minds we take a break.  I'm all for it.
Need to relax for a few anyway. Stretch the old legs."

	"Good.  It's settled.  Hit the next rest area."

	"Ray boy, you are a man after my own heart."

	Hank spoke over Raymond's head to me.  "Billie Joe you don't mind I
take a break?"

	"No, sir. You're doing the driving.  I'm just glad to have the
ride."

	"Well good then.  Ray boy here wants to conduct business when we
stop. You can go stretch your legs or sit there.  We'll do it back in the
bunk."

	"What?" I said, unable to hide my surprise.

	"You a redneck there, Billie Joe," Raymond asked back at me and his
arm was down on my back.

	"I can't see my neck," I said sarcastically. "Can you look and give
me a reading?"

	"Got you, Ray boy.  He's a quick one.  Got you good. Give me a
reading!"  Hank laughed loud like he enjoyed laughing.

	Raymond turned around facing me and pulled my jacket away from my
neck. He put his hand down the back of my shirt, feeling my skin with his
delicate hand.

	"No.  It's not red.  Nice skin though, Billie Joe.  You use bubble
bath or something?"

	"Fuck you, Raymond.  Get your hands off me."

	I swatted Raymond's hands away and he could see he wasn't endearing
himself to me.  I took to watching the road, not too sure about what to
expect from this ride.

	The next rest area was only half an hour down the road, and we
eased up the ramp and glided into one of the long truck spaces I'd never
noticed before.  It was late afternoon.  There were only two trucks in the
entire lot Raymond sat his butt back on the doghouse and started to slide
into the bunk behind us.  It ran the width of the truck and looked to be
three feet wide.

Hank yelled.

	"Ray boy, you know you don't go on my sheets in street clothes.
I've told you that."

	"Yeah, Hank.  You told me.  I forgot. Don't want to be giving no
free shows away to Billie Joe."

	Raymond pulled off his shirt and unbuckled his pants and pulled
them off along with his socks, tossing them all in the floor at my feet.
He had white boxers on with thin red lines decorating them and the front of
them were poked out in a way that I recognized.

He slid up and back, scooting his butt into the bunk.  I could see his
ruddy red ball sac up one of the legs of his shorts and some really fine
red hair scattered up there.  He looked at me after leaning on the back of
the bunk with his legs still sticking out onto the doghouse, and he made a
stupid face before pulling it out of the front of his boxers.  It was maybe
a little bigger than my own, but it didn't have a head at all.  Skin
covered it all up.  It was pure white but reddish too, and I could see
brilliant red hair all around the hole in his boxers.

	Hank undid his pants and took off his shirt.  He slid out of his
pants and boots at the same time he slid up over the doghouse and into the
bunk.

	"Ray boy, you've got it all wrong.  It's your turn remember.  I did
yours last stop."

	"Can't blame a guy for trying. It's all that bouncing up and
down. Right Billie Joe? Gives you a bone every time, huh?"

	"I don't have a problem," I said, looking straight out the
windshield.

	"Hey, Billie Joe, you do mine while I handle Hank.  He's too big
for a little boy, and I'll even give you half the money. What do you say?
Help a guy out?"

	"Thanks! I'm fine," I said. "I'm trying to cut back."

	"Got you again, Ray boy. He's too quick for you," Hank mused.

	Hank closed the curtain after getting situated in the bunk.  The
truck was eight feet wide, so there was plenty enough room for them to
stretch out, but the bunk looked like about half a single bed.

I heard sounds I knew after the truck drew quiet.  They were crude sounds
compared to the slight, gentle sounds Carl and I made, but then I wasn't
listening from the outside when we... when we made love.  I could feel the
truck starting to rock, and then the curtain moved open two inches and
Raymond's hand ran down my arm.  I moved, and as I did I could see Raymond
doing his thing to Hank. I'm sure he got off on me watching the sex.

	Hank was maybe thirty.  He was older than my brother by a bit, and
younger than my father by some.  That's why I say thirty.  He looked maybe
a little larger than me, but he was getting attention on it, so I figured
he was no bigger than me usually.  Raymond's idea of size obviously didn't
include anyone like Carl.  I laughed to myself and felt a twitch in my
stomach because I kept thinking about him.  I knew I would meet people and
have opportunities, but it was too soon to even think of doing anything.  I
knew I would, though, if the time was right.  I wasn't going to go without
for a year!  I needed to do more than sit and wait now that I was learning
just what it was I liked and in what quantities.

	"Feeling all right, Hank," Raymond said in his first pleasant
tones.

	"You are a pro, Ray boy. Never knew a seventeen year old to be so
experienced."

	"Want to do the other thing for another ten."

	"Ray boy, I'm giving you all the extra money I got.  There isn't
any more for frills.  I'm a trucker not a banker.  I don't usually pay
anyone.  There's guys in every truck stop dying to climb up on a truckers
bones.  If you weren't so damn talented, I wouldn't pay you a dime.  Hell,
I've done yours twice, and I don't do that shit with boys.  Not since I was
fourteen."

	"Yeah, you treated me good.  Buying me food and all.  I'll give you
the other on the house.  I know you're partial to that.  It's my 'thank
you'."

	My eyes became glued to the open curtain as I watched Raymond move
around.  He pulled off his boxers and he was poking out really far.  The
bright red hair around it looked neat. It was all pink now with red toward
the top.  He leaned over Hank and his rusty colored hole was right at the
curtain.  There were more fine red hairs. His skin was whiter than snow but
it was pink too. When I looked at him with his clothes on, he looked all
pale. Naked he was a virtual rainbow of colors that excited me.

	I watched Raymond take a rubber from Hank and open it with his
teeth before he rolled it down in place, using both hands to caress and
excite the man.  He then ran his hand up and down to smooth it out once he
had it in place.

	"Pre-Lubed.  All right!  What will they think of next? I'll make
short work of you, Hank, so you'll have time for a little nap."

	Raymond almost leaped up on it, and it immediately started to
disappear.  I couldn't see Hank's face, it was all the way over behind the
driver's seat side of the bunk, but I could hear the long slow moan.
Raymond's hand once more came out through the curtain as he bounced like he
was on a trampoline.  He grabbed my shoulder and held it almost like he was
using me for balance.  I didn't remove his hand but I suppose I should
have. I knew he wasn't using me for balance, Raymond had never lost his
balance in his entire life.

I didn't want him rolling out of the bunk into the front seat like that.
It was a good excuse to let someone touch me.  He had red hairs on the
lower part of his leg, and his feet were almost red.  I could see the top
of him, and it was red as well, and the skin was almost off the head now,
but still covered the ridge so tight you could see the pores in it through
the skin.

	"How's it going, Hank? We getting there."

	"Yeah.  You want me to go ahead?  We could do this awhile or I'll
kick back while you do the other."

	"You enjoy yourself. I'll give you a few more minutes."

	I could hear Hank was a lot closer than he admitted.  His breathing
got to be louder than Raymond's mouth.  I Watched Raymond lean way back
across Hank's legs and grab below his knees with both hands as Hank
finished.  I could see Hank's legs getting all jumpy.  Then all the motion
stopped and Raymond just stayed leaning back over his legs and his stood
straight out.  His was longer than mine by a ways, but thinner.  There were
no marks on it, just all those colors.

The bright red hair was something I had only seen once in junior high in
the showers the same year I first started paying attention to guy's dicks.
It made my mouth dry looking at it and listening to them do it two feet
away from where I sat.  It also had me dying trying to keep from turning
onto their romp in the hay. My mind had turned into its sexual side. My
dick responded.

	Hank sat up and Raymond leaned out of the bunk putting his arm
around my shoulder as Hank was sliding out onto the back of his seat where
he held up his pants, sliding down into them and his boots in a single
motion.  Raymond was naked and his body was still leaning against mine.
His hand was now down on my chest.

	"You're probably too small, but you want a go.  I'm still hard.
I'll give you a freebie so you'll know if we should do anything after we
hit the highway together."

	"I don't need no freebie."

	"You a virgin boy, Billie Joe?  I got me a special for virgin boys,
B.J.  You got the name for showing a fella a good time, B.J.  You won't be
a virgin boy long.  Raymond will turn your ass every way but losse.  Ask
Hank.  I'm the best there is."

	"None of your business what I am, and I don't need you to show me
nothin'."

	"You are a virgin boy, aren't you, B.J.?"

	Raymond leaned forward and stuck his whole tongue in my ear,
slurping and slopping spit on the side of my face.  I smacked him in the
head knocking him back in the bunk with his feet up in the air, and that
rusty bung stared up at me under his pinkish red nuts.

	"Hey!  Hey, you two!  Cut it!" Hank sort of yelled as he pulled
onto the Interstate.  "Raymond leave this boy alone.  He's a nice kid.  You
don't be doing that shit to no clean-cut kid.  Redneck or not, he'll bust
your ass."

	"You better listen to the man, Ray boy," I said in my meanest
voice.

	"For the right price he can bust all he wants," Raymond said in a
nasty voice right back and his hand shot out of the bunk at my face while I
was distract on account I was staring between his legs.

	My peripheral vision being excellent, even with my mind on other
things, I waited for the right instant, bringing my hand around on top of
his and slapping it down with considerable force against the back of the
seat just an instant before it got to my face.  He let out a loud groan and
started rolling around in the bunk, cussing his pain.

	Hank had shifted and accelerated the truck up to speed, and he
watched the whole exchange in the mirror while eyeballing traffic on his
side.  "Told you not to fuck with him, Ray boy.  Looks like he can take
care of himself. Good- looking boys always learn how to take care of
themselves. You should know that."

	"He broke my elbow.  He broke my elbow!  I'm going to sue your ass,
you little creep."

	"Shut the fuck up, Ass Hole, or I'll break the other one," I said.

	"Thank you, Billie Joe.  I was about to make the same suggestion.
Your approach will probably prove more effective than mine.  I'm sometimes
too tolerant for my own good. He's a good boy. A little on the wild side is
all."

	"Little shit knows Jujitsu or something," Raymond complained,
rubbing his arm and scowling at me from the bunk, but he kept his hands to
himself.

	He still didn't close his legs or cover himself, and he was still
standing up like he was ready to do more business.  I got my eye full all
right and he knew it.

	"Karate.  Four years.  Don't fuck with me, Ray boy.  The next time
I will hurt you for real."

	"I was only joking around, Billy boy.  As you can plainly see I'm a
lover not a fighter."  He grabbed himself as he spoke and yanked up and
down as he thrust it out toward my face as I watched.

	"Billie Joe.  My name is Billie Joe.  I ain't your boy.  I ain't
B.J., Ass Hole."

	"Jesus.  Sorry for living.  I'll keep my mouth shut," he said,
backing down as he spoke.

	"That's the best suggestion you've had," I said.

	The truck grew silent except for the sounds of the road.  Raymond
stayed back in the bunk with his legs stretched out across the doghouse. I
could see him out of the corner of my eye, and he was pulling on it at a
pretty good clip.  He kept looking up to see if I was watching him, but I
pretended I wasn't.

He let one of his thighs lean against my arm for a hundred miles or so
before sliding naked onto the doghouse. It finally dropped down between his
legs and over his ball sac. The loose skin rubbed the surface below him.  I
could see where the fat head was inside the skin. I tried to keep my mind
on the road, but couldn't. He had an amazing dick and body.

	"I need to get my drawers on.  Make some room will yeah?"

	I slid against the door as his smooth leg slid down my bare arm. I
lifted my hand out of the way but his entire crotch slid across it with it
half standing up as quick as it touched my skin.  The once sagging loose
skin immediately tightened up and started withdrawing back off the head,
half of it now peaking out.  He pressed his arm inside my arm so mine was
trapped under his and against his hot skin.  I slowly slid my hand across
his thigh, feeling the soft skin and wondering how he got so bold.  He
looked at me and smiled like he knew I liked touching him. We were close,
too close for comfort.

	He put on his socks, and then he put on his white T-shirt, sitting
there for another ten minutes with a hardon before he pulled his pants up
over it.  His boxers remained back in the bunk.  It stood straight out of
the open zipper for another ten miles.  He looked at my face, following my
eyes to his dick. He placed his hand on his shaft and skinned the foreskin
back so I could see the entire perfect head for the first time.

	"It's okay to like them. I like them," he said softly as our bodies
bounced together in a way he'd suggested earlier. He had me mesmerized.

It was really dark red by this time and it was turning purple while he was
handling it deftly.  He turned it toward me and squeezed so the head
swelled, making it darker and more exciting for me.  I could his heat. He
looked to see if I was still interested.  My eyes were hopelessly glued to
it. The red hair, all that loose skin, and his multi-colored prick
fascinated me in a way that made me squirm, especially since he knew I was
being tantalized by his boldness.

	As we went bouncing up the road, rubbing against each other, I got
in the same condition.  I realized his hand was on my thigh right next to
it, and with each bounce it was getting closer.  I decided to stop fighting
with him, and let him go.  He stopped with his hand on the inside of my leg
just below my dick head.  I don't know if he was afraid I'd belt him or if
he had just lost interest.  The bulge in my pants ran down my leg in a
prominent bulge that I was sure he had seen.  We both stared out the window
as the day started to darken.  His hand was resting right against my nuts
and over my dick head. It moved up and down with the truck.  I was dying
and paralyzed.

	Hank was stretching the last fifty miles to Oregon.  It was almost
dark when we crossed the Columbia River.  Portland looked dirty.  The green
hills rose up all around it, and Mount Hood stood high, thrust up into the
fading light, a perfect snow cap on top.  I'd only seen pictures, but I
knew it right away.  Of course it's the only peak there, so I didn't have
to be exactly a geography whiz.  Like with Mount Rainier, you couldn't get
confused by other peaks in the area. It was supreme.

	My eyes were drooping.  I'd needed extra sleep ever since meeting
Carl.  We expended so much energy when we were awake that it required a lot
more sleep just to keep up.  Now bouncing around the truck I was exhausted,
and I could hardly hold my eyes open. I had to stay awake to enjoy
Raymond's fingers now brushing against my everhard pecker.  We went down
past Lake Oswago and found some truck stops on the highway a few minutes
below there.  There were a million trucks parked out back.  The lot covered
half a mile and was almost full.  There were two restaurants, a motel, and
a garage on the lot with the truck stop.

	We ate, and I only got a burger with everything on it.  Hank tried
to pay, but I decided I didn't want to be obligated.  He made some calls
and came back to the table.

	"I can't load until noon tomorrow.  I'm getting a room for the
night so I can get cleaned up and call the wife.  You boys come in and
shower, and then you get to sleep in the truck.  I need to pack in some
hours.  I've got to go to Salt Lake and then on to Dallas from there in the
next three days."

	"That sounds next to impossible," I said, after calculating it in
my head.

	"By god Billie Joe, it is. That's how come us truckers got to do
it. You can bet your ass my logs won't have anything to do with where my
truck is located."

	"What's a log?" I asked.

	"Jez," Raymond moaned in disbelief.

	"It's the way the government tracks us so we don't work too
hard. Unless they catch you out on the road, they're pretty much
fiction. If they do stop me out on the road, it's an instant eight hours
off and a pretty nice pay day for Uncle Sam."

	"Why do it then?" I asked.

	"Drive a truck. It's in my blood. Lie on my logs? Because I've got
to earn a living driving a truck. If you tell the truth, you starve. It's
all in the numbers."

	"That's fucked up," I said.

	"Life often is, Billie Joe. Listen, I need a good night's
sleep. Can you two manage in the truck with out beating each other to
death?"

	"Might be beating something but never each other, Hank.  I'm a
lover, remember? I know you do," Raymond smiled and patted Hank's arm real
sexy like.

	"I remember, Ray boy.  I also remember Billie Joe almost had to
kick your ass to keep you in line.  I don't want no shit.  You'll both hit
the road tonight instead of after a good night's sleep and hot breakfast."

	"It's cool," I said. "we're cool."

	"No clothes in the bunk," Hand stressed.

	"I know, Hank.  I know.  No clothes.  I'll remember this time.  You
just told me this afternoon.  I'll keep the kid straight."

	"Don't call me kid, Ass Hole."

	"It would be the first person you kept straight," Hank said,
laughing as he went to check into the hotel behind the restaurant.

	We all showered, and of course Raymond walked around naked for an
hour and watched television until Hank told us to go to the truck so he
could sleep.  I was already falling asleep in the chair.  I followed
Raymond out so I'd know which truck it was.  They all looked alike to me.

	"You hit the bunk. I'll start out up here.  It gets cold, and I'll
climb back there, so don't be punching me out if I come to bed.  Take off
your clothes.  He don't like no street clothes on his clean sheets."

	"Don't blame him.  That would ruin a good sleep.  Clean sheets
sound good."

	I slipped my money in my socks as I undressed.  I pushed the gold
bracelet up almost to my elbow so it would stay put instead of hanging down
in the palm of my hand.  Raymond grabbed a pillow and was scooting around
the front seat when I turned out the overhead light. I was sleeping before
I got lying down completely.  All the life just went out of me as soon as I
got prone.

	I don't know when Raymond came to bed, but I immediately recognized
the position I found myself in.  I had my hand on him, and his naked ass
was pressed against me, and I was poking out of my shorts and pressed right
into that rusty pink hole of his.  My head seemed to be right in the
opening like I was preparing to dive in to him.  I felt the smooth skin on
his.  It felt really different, and hard as a spike. It didn't take all my
effort to try and hold him, and I moved my hand up to see where that skin
was on the top.  He moaned when my fingers touched his cock head, and some
drops of liquid made my fingers sticky.  I jerked my hand away and he
pressed back just a little and my head slipped right inside of him.  He
made a sound like "ouch," only it wasn't that. I yanked it out as quick as
I felt the soft warm moist hole closing around my throbbing shaft.

	"Shit," I said.

	"Fuck," he said.

	"You might have the fucking AIDS," I yelled.

	"I don't have AIDS, and if you'll look, you got a condom on. Jesus
you're a pussy. You was just getting good.  You're a lot bigger than I
thought for a little boy."

	"I got my spurt of growth there before anywhere else."

	"Nice spurt.  You're okay.  Sex wise I mean.  You're a jerk
otherwise."

	"Is that all you think about?"

	"Sex?  Sure.  Tell me it isn't all you think about!  Go ahead.  You
can't can you? You got on a hard quick as I touched you.  I just backed up
against you trying to make me some room.  You grabbed my pecker, and you
were trying to screw me before I knew what was what.  I know where Hank
keeps his condoms. I just made sure you didn't give me the AIDS. So there."

	"I've only been with...."

	"With what?  Who were you with, Billie Joe?  Boy or girl?  Or was
it... let's see here...  I'm psychic you know."

"That's pronounced Psycho," I said coldly.

"Oh, good one Billie boy. The hits just keep on a comin'. Wait a minute...
I'm seeing it now...  Yes, yes, here it is...  Yes!  Billie Joe loves... I
almost had it. Maybe... Loves Carl. Hes, that's who.  You acting like
you're so fuckin' innocent.  I looked at your hardware when I saw it. I
knew what you was soon as I read it."

"You should mind your own business. You had no right reading that."

"You got to learn to hide things better. Someone'll sure as hell take that
puppy off you. You're on the road now. This ain't summer camp."

"It's none of your business. I don't want you messin' with me."

"Me, mess with you? I just climbed in bed and planted my ass up next to
you.  You did the rest except the condom.  I seen the way you was
eyeballin' me earlier. I didn't want to take no chances you'd be makin' no
illegal entry while I slept. Caution is king you know.  I mean I don't mind
helping you out on account you got a good fat one could do me some good.
We're going to be on the road together.  We're going to need to share. Best
we stick together. Be friends you know."

	"Road together?  I never said nothing about that.  You got to be
joking me. I know trouble when I see it."

	"Two guys that look like us are a lot safer together.  Some people
get ideas they see you out there on the road all by yourself. You might get
along okay alone, but sooner or later Willy Weirdo is a goin' to pick your
ass up, and none of that fancy shit is going to stop him from taking what
he wants from you.  That's why I make business deals.  Instead of them
having to take it off me, I sell it to them.  I get by, and they get off.
Fair exchange for a roadie."

	"That's gross."

	"You get hungry enough, nothing's gross, my friend.  You sell it to
them, and just maybe they don't take it.  You're not at home in Iowa City
or whatever Podunkville you come out ah kid.  This is the highway, and you
need someone like me to keep you alive out here.  I been through it a year
and a half.  I know the road.  You know shit. You better listen to me and
stick with ole' Ray boy."

	"I'll never get that hungry. I need you like I need an extra hole
in my head for ventilation."

	"Listen, if someone wants to be buyin' yeah food, you take it.
Every dime they spend on you is a dime you don't spend on yourself.  It
doesn't seem like much right now 'cause you got money in your pocket.  On
the road it will run out faster an you imagine.  If someone is nice enough,
fool enough, or whatever, to spend money on you, don't spend your own.
That's not road wise.  Use your head you might make it on your own. That
ones free, Billie Joe, on account I like you in spite of your attitude.
You think you can't learn from the pro just on account I tell it like it
is. Well, I don't know no other way. I got things I can be teachin' you,
but you're a tough little sucker. Two of us'll do better together than
alone."

For the first time Billie Joe sensed that this was the real Raymond. The
cocky swagger was gone out of his voice and he wanted to make his case for
traveling together. For the first time Billie Joe thought of being alone
out on the road in the middle of the night. Even the thought scared him.

	"I see your point.  Thanks.  Yeah.  I can do that okay.  I don't
mind someone buying me a burger or something.  That's cool.  I didn't say
you couldn't help me out. I just don't like your style."

	"I went through all the trouble of dressing you up there.  Why
don't we get back to getting proper use out of that thing.  Another thing
you learn is you never waste nothin' on the road. You ever tried to get one
of those things back in the foil after you've put it on?"

	"No," I laughed. "I've never had one on before right now. Feels
nice on my cock."

	"You and Carl didn't practice safe sex. Shame on you Billie boy. I
guess that's the next lesson. If you don't protect yourself, don't expect
the asshole trying to get his rocks off to give a fuck."

	"Neither one of us had ever done anything before," I said.

	"You got yourself a virgin?"

	"Shut up, Raymond. Carl's a man and the best man I've ever
known. Don't be talking about him like he's some piece of meat."

	"You got it bad, kid. You didn't seem to be all that worked up
until you thought about the AIDS.  I've been tested.  I never take it up
the ass without a raincoat.  If I can't afford 'em I steal 'em. Some places
give 'em away. I don't do IV drugs, and I've never had blood. You ain't got
to worry about Ray boy."

	"What's with the sex thing.  Why are you so bold about it."

	"Son, I'm a faggot.  I suck dick.  I get screwed.  It's what I do.
It's better than sitting around pickin' at your nose.  My step daddy told
me when I was eleven, your momma don't be given it up no more, son. I'm
here to inform you that her youngest son will be taking up the slack."

	"Eleven?!"

	"Yeah! I been around in the six years since."

	"You could have had him locked up."

	"You are a dreamer, Billie Joe."

	"I know that shit's illegal."

"Yeah, sure. I woke up just past my eleventh birthday.  He was already up
in me.  I slept pretty sound in those days. I was more scared than hurt.
He didn't have by a tiny little thing. Big enough to get my attention back
then.  Needle dick, I called him.  Not to his face of course."

"Eleven!" I said, and something tugged at my heart. I wanted to hold him
and tell him it would be okay. I wanted to reach out to the eleven year old
Raymond to tell him I'd protect him. My attitude toward him had changed
once I knew the truth about him.

"He'd come into my room and put a gallon of Vaseline up my hole, and he
slide right up there.  When I woke up that first time I started screaming,
and he put his hand on my mouth and just eased me all the way down on his
prick. After a few times I realized the more I struggled and wiggled, the
better it was for him. He'd say thing to piss me off so I'd fight while he
was fucking me."

"Sick bastard," I said.

	"Two, three times a week after that. When I was twelve I made the
mistake of telling him to quite using all that Vaseling. I couldn't feel
nothin' with all that crap up my butt. I was going through puberty and I
wanted to make the most of it."

	"You liked it?"

	"I didn't hate it any more. I got used to it. I took out the
garbage, walked the dog... I miss my dog, and I got fucked by the old
man. Those were my chores. He gave me extra money and he'd always wink so
I'd know he was paying for my silence. I think he once worried I might drop
a dime on him."

Then he started making me give him head.  Now that was gross. He'd be drunk
and sitting there watching television when I come in.  He'd point to it.
I'd have to go over and unzip him and do it until he finished up.  Then I'd
run and get a wash cloth and clean him all up and put him away and zip him
up.  My mother caught us at that just once.  She was supposed to be out
some place.  She came in the door and there I was just taking care of
business you know.  She looked at us and stood there a second, watching her
little boy blowing her old man.  I guess she came to the conclusion,
'better him than me,' 'cause she never said anything.  When I was sixteen I
left. Dumb as a post but with a doctorate in sex stuff. I'd tried it all by
then.

"Fuck! Your old lady didn't bust him?"

"Shit no. He paid the bills. I only gobbled up more food than I was
worth. Never said goodbye to her. I checked awhile back but they'd
moved. No forward."

"I've never heard anything that disgusting. How'd you survive all those
years?"

	"I didn't mind the sex with him so much.  If he hadn't been so damn
mean, I'd have really gotten into it once I was in my teens.  If I was
honest about it I liked it from that first night.  It thrilled me. A lot of
the wiggling and squirming was trying to get it further up me.  Too bad he
was so fucking small. I felt like someone finally wanted me for
something. I never liked him thought. I just liked that he wanted me for
something. Pretty lame, huh?"

	"That's awful," I said, not believing anyone could treat someone
that way.

	"Not really.  I said I didn't mind it. He taught me everything I
know."

	"You were a kid.  Up your ass at eleven.  That's rank shit.  So
that's why you're so sex crazy?"

"I like sex.  Why not do it when you can?  Makes me feel good about myself.
Makes guys like Hank feel good. That's all I got."

	"Sounds like he kept you at it for awhile."

	"Five years exactly.  He wasn't the only one.  I mean I ran around
with some guys I did it with once I was older."

	"Not just your stepfather?"

	"No.  There was Brad, Brian, and Todd.  We did the look at each
other's thing at nine or ten.  We'd been together since school started.
Then I learned stuff from my step dad and I taught all of them after
awhile.  Mostly they took turns on my butt, but there was some pretty good
stuff too.  They were okay until they got girl friends. They mostly hated
me after that. It's why I left. I could have killed the old man any time I
wanted to if it came to that, but my friends turning their backs on me
really hurt."

	"So that's why you left home."

	"I was tired of being used that way.  Like I said, if he'd been
halfway nice to me, we could have been friends and run around some. I guess
he didn't want to be seen with a cocksucker either." He fell silent,
looking into his mind for a long minute.  "And when the guys said they
didn't want me around any more, there was nothing there for me.  It was
like they were afraid I might come up to them and say, hey, let's go have
sex or something.  I got lonely, and figured it was time to head out."

	"Where have you been all that time?"

	"Here, there. A guy in Spokane kept me three months.  Old guy.  He
was okay and I kept house for him.  He mostly did it to me.  Blow job stuff
you know.  He liked doing that for me, so I didn't hardly ever do nothing
to him except for something special. He'd been married and she died on
him. Nice guy."

	"What happened?"

	"They get tired of you.  Old guys are that way.  They worry about
someone figuring out what's going on. They have something for awhile, and
then they want something else.  He wanted something else, and I moved on.
I been with a guy in Oregon.  I stayed with a preacher in Salt Lake City.
Real religious fella, only he got horny a lot, and I took care of that for
him when he could get his wife out of the house."

	He looked right in my eyes.  "You can stay alive on the road if
you're cool.  You can't survive alone.  I thought you might be gay when you
let me touch you while I was with Hank.  I could see you watching me.
That's why I didn't put my clothes on.  I can tell when someone is
interested.  The eyes tell all, Billie boy.  I mean B.J.  Then you let me
feel you up this afternoon.  You were in distress there for awhile.  I
figured I'd let it ache until later.  I saw your bracelet and I slipped it
down on your wrist to get a good look.  Nice piece a work, dude.  I don't
know why I turned it over, but I must admit it surprised me.  Who's Carl?"

	"My lover."

	"Ouch! I thought we could be friends.  Lover?  Bad news! They don't
last."

	"Why's it such bad news."

	"All that loyalty stuff.  You think you have to be true to him.  I
know that route.  I been down this road.  Your first lover?"

	"First anything."

	"Oh boy!"  He leaned his head back into my shoulder.  "I guess you
got it bad.  Is that where you're going.  To be with your husband."

	"Fuck you.  He's a marine.  He went overseas.  We didn't make any
demands on each other.  We're lovers.  I told him I couldn't go home when
he left.  I decided to find guys like me to see what it means to be gay.
He knew what I was going to do."

	"Didn't tell you not to?"

	"No.  He wanted me to say I would wait, but I told him it was all
so new that if I told him that and then couldn't keep it, I'd never feel
right around him again.  He told me to do what I had to do as long as I was
waiting when he came off the plane.  That's what I told him.  So I aim to
find out what being gay means."

	"It means people spit on you.  They kick shit out of you if you go
to the wrong place.  It means you're going to hell right after you die of
AIDS."  He grew solemn.  "Personally, I think the hell part comes first."

	"I just want to love somebody and be left alone."

	"You want to be left alone, Billie boy?  Go home.  Find yourself
some nice little girl friend.  Give me that bracelet, and settle down and
make babies.  Everyone will think you are just peachy keen.  They'll leave
you alone.  They find out your are a fucking fag and they're going to make
you miserable."

	"I like guys.  I like Carl.  I don't like girls that way."

	"You like me."

	"You're a loud mouth wise ass."

	"Yeah, but all this red hair tickles your fancy. I seen your face
when you was watching me. I felt it in your pants, B.J. You got the hots
for Ray boy."

	"So what if I do. My name is Billie Joe."

	"What's in a name, Billie boy."

	"Respect.  Something you don't seem to be acquainted with."

	"Sure I am.  I respected my stepfather every time he shoved it to
me.  I respected my old lady for letting him shove it to me. I respected my
friends every time they shoved it to me. I used to see that glint in their
eye as the came into my room at all hours, knowing they were about to get
lucky, until they were finished with me, and then I knew too much for them
to ever be seen with me again. I respect the road and here I am, Billie
Joe. Full of respect for the world. Ain't life grand?"

	"You've had it rough. I'm sorry, Ray.  You can do what you want
now."

	"I can do what Hank wants.  Or the next guys wants.  I can't do
what I want. I would enjoying what you want."

	"Hank seems okay."

	"He's cool.  He's one of the good ones.  Married, three kids, and
stuck out on the road.  I knew what he wanted when he picked me up.  You
get to know what they want by the way they look at you. That's what most
guys want when they pick you up, so you know.  We're lovely little boys
with tight asses, and they want us to make them feel young again.  Give
them a shot of our youth.  That's how it is with most guys who pick you
up. Then they go home to their wives."

	"You're one cynical so-and-so."

	"I suppose.  I learned that on the road too. I came out here
expecting a big party."

	"You might could tone it done a bit, and maybe someone would like
you a little better for something besides your mouth and ass hole."

	"You don't seem to mind my ass."

	"Interesting, I suppose.  I was just surprised.  I saw you with
Hank. I've only done it with Carl."

	"You ever seen a guy could do it to himself?  Suck his own pecker?"

	"Shit no!  Nobody can do that."

	"Want to bet on it?"

	"Who you?" I laughed at the skinny boy. "What do you want to bet?"

	"I can suck myself off, you got to butt fuck me on account it's
what I want bad. If I'm blowing smoke, nothing happens. If I'm not... you
get what you want anyway."

	"Nobody can do that," ignoring his confession and observation.

	"You can't lose you know.  If I can't do it, I'll even suck you
off.  You can't lose if you lose, B.J., and you ain't gonna get a lot of
deals that good."

	"Go ahead. Let me see it.  I dare you," I challenged believing in
the impossibility of the task. I was from Minnesota. What did I know?

	I watched Raymond spin around and press his back against the side
of the bed with his legs shooting up across the ceiling and then he wiggled
until his feet settled in back of his head. He was all the time yanking on
himself, and I watched him pulling it down to his mouth. There it was maybe
a half an inch from his lips, but he wasn't quite able to get to the top of
it.

	"Press down a little on the back of my legs."

	I put my hand on his smooth warm flesh and pushed down, and as
quick as I touched him the top two inches slipped between his lips as he
slurped away.

	"I'll be!  You can do it!"

	"Go ahead and rub me there.  It's okay.  Open the curtain a little
so some light comes in. You can touch it.  I seen you're watching it. You
got a thing for my hole."

	I looked at the rusty pink hole.  I placed my fingers on it.  It
was hot, and smooth, and the way he had his legs made just a tiny piece of
it open.  I slid my finger into it... just the tip.  I realized I was
sticking straight up and the rubber still covered me.

	"Damn nice little package you got there.  You're thicker than old
Hank by a ways or me for that matter.  If I scoot around the other way, you
can do it while I suck myself. If you're looking for a little adventure."

	"Do what?"

	"You lost the bet.  You aren't going back out on the bet."

	"I suppose not."

	"Just lean your back up on the top and you can slide right down.
I'll let you see when I cum.  You can see how much it turns me on doing
both ends at the same time. Todd and I did this all the time. He's the only
one of my friends that still made early morning visits after he got his
girlfriend."

	"Sucking your own pecker.  I've seen it all now! I've heard of self
service, but that beats all."

	"I still got a few tricks I can teach you.  Speaking of self
service, his rubbers are lubed up already. You can plunge right in. Let's
go.  You got me all worked up.  Get in there and show me if you know how to
screw."

	I didn't think any more about it.  A bet was a bet.  I had known I
wanted to have sex with Raymond when I first saw him naked.  He was right
about the red hair, and the fine hole made it better.  I slid in easy but
steady.  He moaned until my dark hair was against his pure white skin.

	The sounds were quiet, but they made me hot listening and thinking
about him doing it to himself.  I got carried away after a few minutes and
really shoved it to him.  I must have filled that condom up, because it was
squishy and my thing was all wet when I pulled up out of him.  It was
nothing like Carl. I didn't care about Ray, or if he liked it, but I knew
he did.  His ass was hot and I fell back on the bunk in a puddle of wet
sticky liquid.

	"Shit. You done it all over the bunk."

	"What could I do.  You were going wild up there on top.  I didn't
want to break your concentration.  I haven't got it like that since I was
raped my first month out."

	"You been raped?"

	"Yep."

	"Did they hurt you?"

	"Yep."

	"Damn.  You been around."

	"Yep, and I know when I've had it by someone that knows how to do
it.  I take back what I said about you.  Carl must have taught you well."

	"We taught each other."

	"You tired?"

	"I thought I'd sleep all night. I was laid up in a motel room for
four days with Carl.  We didn't sleep half the time.  It caught up with me
riding."

	"Do you mind if I stay back, and maybe you can hold me for a few
minutes."

	The request hit me like a bullet.  With all the bravado and
arrogance Raymond gave off, he needed some one to hold him.  I knew what it
was like being held, and I knew what it was like to do the holding.  There
was no way I could turn him down.  The idea wasn't all that distasteful to
me.  There was something about him that made me want to be close to him.  I
wanted to hold him, comfort him.  I didn't like being alone, and when I
left Seattle, I knew I was going some place where I could hold men and be
held by men.  It didn't replace Carl, but at least it gave me a feeling of
warmth and sharing, and, like Raymond, I needed more than anything to be
held or to hold someone I liked being with.

	We cleaned up Raymond's mess, and slept on top of the second
sheet. He peeled my underwear off and reached around for my hand. He put it
under his arm and across his chest where he held my hand in his.  He backed
up against the front of me, and I felt embarrassed when I stood up as soon
as I slid into the crack of his smooth white butt . We'd have to get up and
hit the road in the morning.  I wanted to get the best night's sleep I
could.  I felt his smooth warmth, and it drifted further and further away
from me as sleep came.

				   *****

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