Date: Wed, 26 Sep 2012 05:33:28 -0600 From: Rob Ioveboy Subject: My-Way-Or-The-Highway-4 My Way Or The Highway Chapter Four By Rob Loveboy Alex was giving it hell on Branden's cock while masturbating Doogan so hard that the kid could barely keep his balance. At least Branden had a head-hold to help support his wavering hips as the cock monger extended little mercy feeding his manic infatuation, undoubtedly supercharged by the Ecstasy high. Rising to my feet, I looked Jordie in the eye and placed my hands on his shoulders. Applying only the slightest pressure, the message became clear and he pulled away from me and began dancing. It was what I expected. As far as he was concerned, Alex and I were the fags and that he and Branden were only along for the ride, after all, a blow-job is a blow-job and a mouth has no gender to a horny teenager. Neither was he about to demean himself in front of Branden, even he if he was tempted to take the plunge, and that was okay by me in the interim, Doogan's mouth would serve the purpose. I would have preferred to have set an example out of Branden lip-locked on my schlong to show Jordie that participation in a sexcapade was a two way street, but I didn't have the heart to disrupt his moments of bliss at the hands of Alex. Nonetheless, the expression on Jordie's face was priceless when Doogan was summoned, smiley faced, and eagerly knelt before me. Preoccupied watching Jordie watching the action as he grooved to his own private rave with his upended fat meat slapping his belly and either side of his groin high above his sprightly active balls, I would have missed Branden's orgasm if he had not audibly drawn attention to it. His head reared back along with his torso, thankfully surrounded by Alex's strong arms keeping him from toppling backwards. Captivated by the erogenous spectacle, I nutted Doogan's mouth. Alex crawled over like a hungry dog and took the last few dribbles from my shaft. He then set his sights on the next best, and closest thing to manhood, Doogan's immature spike. Perhaps a little to aggressively, devouring the boy's complete genitalia and momentarily absent minded of the tender cherries. Doogan winced, then giggled. All was well again until a few minutes later, Doogan began to dance from foot to foot and a pained look on his face. He had to pee. "Piss in my mouth!" Those four garbled words out of Alex's mouth took a moment to decipher. The young man was a cock pig, and a cock pig he'd be treated like. Doogan heard the request and looked at me repulsed. "Let it fly, Doogie, . . . just let it fly, son!" I instructed him. Alex gurgled and sputtered. Piss sprayed from the corners of his mouth like a leaky coupling on a kitchen faucet before he sealed it tight. His larynx and protruding Adam's apple darted up and down directing the golden flow into his sewer pipe throat. I wasn't impressed, but I wasn't appalled. To each his own in what turns him on. Besides, I chucked to the thought that he'd be pretty handy for a long-distance trucker to have along for when nature calls. Stopping to relieve themselves easily costs a half hour of valuable log-book time by the time all is said and done. Milk cartons and large zip-lock baggies discretely tossed out the window are the norm with the hopes that Johnny-Law doesn't see, and cite you for littering. Doogan was the only witness to Alex's degradation of himself, the other two boys were engrossed in burning off drug induced energy. Doogan wouldn't comprehend the basics of water-sports, it was simply beyond his scope of understanding. Giving blow-jobs and accepting cock up his arse was common male-play in his naïve, manipulated mind. But drinking pee would definitely be outside his comfort zone of persuasion. Not that he had to worry, the feeling was mutual! Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and this beholder enjoyed an eye full and then some. Sitting down to rest unable to keep up to the energetic throng, I took in their individuality. All were sleek bodied, nice looking lads in their own way. Doogan, with his boyish features and perpetual state of wonder; Branden's ever serious, cautious demeanor, and Jordie's pimple face, devil-may-care, teenage exuberance. Even Alex, passing into adulthood with some very advanced responsibilities entrusted upon him by his family, still maintained that youthful flair. Perhaps he never really experienced his teen years being burdened by his dad's expectations ever since the day he could physically lift a block of ice. I suddenly felt sorry for Alex. Growing up gay in butt-fuck Northern Ontario couldn't be easy. Most rural youth, gay or straight, move to the cities at their first opportunity. In all probabilities, he was destined to remain there, eventually taking on the family trade, maybe marry some local girl to keep up appearances, but he would be sucking cock in truck stop washrooms forever and a day! I made a mental note to compare our weekly schedules, surely we would find a common locale to get together in future, especially when runaway season came to sad, lonely end. So who could blame the young man making a fool of himself on his hands and knees like a dog in heat, licking the genitals of boys dancing around him in a circle. They teased him like a dog, too; offering a bone and pulling it away, or laugh at him trying to capture a swaying one in his mouth. Even Doogan was enjoying the humiliation tactics. It was Jordie who initiated the assault. Holding Alex's head in a vice-like grip, he face fucked him without compassion. Deep plunges that challenged his gag reflexes causing him to retch until he managed to stifle and meet the ramrod with renewed ardor. Jordie had probably watched too many porn movies all having the same script and plot with only the actors ever changing, not unlike the one previously viewed in our little den of inequity, the screen of which was casting a blue hue over the room, the action having ended and long been forgotten in lieu of the live, homemade version. Of course Branden would soon mimic the throat rape a few minutes later when his new friend swiveled and offered Alex's head between his hands like it was a football strategy to be ran with and carried to a touchdown. The only too-willing older teen squatted on his knees, mouth agape and lunged forward to receive his next test of raunchy stamina, subsequently passed in repeated succession among the three youths his junior despite at their oppressive amusement. Alex not only needed to get fucked for the first time, but gang banged to make his night cockfully satisfying. He would waddle out of that motel room in the morning, get in his truck and regret every bump on the highway along his journey if I had anything to do with it. Which I did, after all, It was my way or the highway! Stacking pillows in the middle of the makeshift dance floor was observed with curiosity until I was satisfied the level was sufficient, the only minor challenge was getting Alex's mouth off Jordie long enough to persuade him to belly down with his ass in the air. He knew what was coming, everyone else did, as well. Lubing up Doogan to be the first in taking Alex's virginity was a kind gesture on my part, a luxury that, unfortunately, was not bestowed upon Doogan or Branden. Start small and working up, I would be the last to stuff the tender sausage casing with meat, all with the satisfaction of paving the way for countless other truckers seeking the only free alternative to pussy far away from home. Alex reacted as any male or female would to having their anatomical plumbing valve forced into a reverse mode contrary to its intended design. Doogan was surprisingly gentle worming his way through the pinched elastic like, surrendering muscles. It certainly helped that the receiver was an enthusiastic first timer learning a whole new respect and regard for the hardened male appendage. Although it would have been nice to double-end him, I felt it prudent to stay clear of his jaws in the interim stages of adjustment. Standing above Alex's body and the kneeling boy behind him, who was proudly the new center of attention being prompted by his peers to sodomize with greater vigor, I placed my cock at his lips. Once again, Doogan was being used to set the standard for things to come. Doogan being relieved and my brief eye contact with Branden, who was nobody's fool, knew exactly what was in store as he knelt, greased himself and gave Alex a little more girth and length to contend with. First looking over his shoulder at the dancing Jordie who was staring back at him with a smirk, he brazenly took me. Branden set his frustrations with me out on Alex, who's reflexes tried to pull himself forward at the sudden attempt of the larger boy to impale him. Had it not been for my lower legs scissor-locked at his fleshy sides just at his hip bone, the teen may have managed to scramble ahead. In defeat, he reared back like a contortionist with his head slamming my ass for only a moment until he spine protested and he slumped down like a Muslim in prayer. Branden needed a little attitude adjustment, not from abusing Alex's rectum, but showing defiance toward me by implementing his teeth in such a subtle way that I may have gotten the impression that he was lost in heat of the moment. He underestimated me. His next gasp for air was met with a shove to his tonsils and held there long enough to send the returned message, postage paid. Jordie was oblivious to the disciplining, from his position behind he most probably thought that the gasping Branden had ingested an inch or two more than he reckoned he was capable of handling. A judgment error soon corrected, Branden became orally submissive to me, but continued to ravage Alex. Most assuredly he was trying to maintain a balance. A balance of aggression and subservience, even allowing him to forgo blowing me for short durations while he vainly plummeted Alex when Jordie took on a peculiar interest, shifting his dance to a more, nonchalant bird's eye view. Alex either became numb, or his grunts were indications of acceptance. Not long afterward, he no longer tried to escape the confines of my legs. The answer to that was soon revealed when he threw his head back, meeting Branden's drive in unison like a well oiled machine. Alex had crossed that threshold between pain and pleasure. Branden was going to cum, all the tell tale signs became obvious. My cock laid idle in his mouth and his face contorted as if in pain, with a final push forward his torso skimmed my thighs as he flopped over Alex's back. His bum cheeks flexed and hollowed with every rush of ejaculate to a final mere quiver, spent and exhausted. I stooped and physically lifted his ass to the side to make room for Jordie, who was anxiously waiting his turn. Not bothering to lube himself, he gained headway into the primed chasm with a little effort. Alex wailed at the void being reloaded with a greater thickness and the painful urgency to bury it. His aggressor was also feeling a bit tender, the effects of a long term erection and then being bored into an orifice half its circumference. To say Jordie was enjoying himself regardless, would be an understatement. Grunting and groaning, with sweat poring off his head, he stared at my cock a foot away. Catching me off guard, his hands released Alex's hips and shot up to grab my cheeks and pull me into his face causing me to stumble and correct my footing before I toppled over. Doogan and Branden snickered at the near mishap, the latter boy clearly relieved that his new friend was knob bobbing as he had, dignity restored. Never did I expect he would venture there. Actually, I was just about to vacate my birds-eye view and force my head between his kneeling legs to give his balls a bath and despite my previous reservations, marinate his raw eye-of-the-round fillet chancing loose hair. Shocked out of my senses, Jordie was lost in rapture. It was the lousiest blow-job ever received, like a huge wad of chewing gum, he chomped and sucked, swallowing any chance of saliva build up for lubrication. However, his inexperienced effort was outstanding, nonetheless. Seeing that boy's mouth engulfed with cock was worth my discomfort, topped off by his eyes rolling back in their sockets, a throaty growl that may have been an attempt to vociferate words to match his ecstatic physical state. Throughout his orgasm, he ceased noshing but kept me lodged and a humming-like unknown tune, the tingling vibrations of which were pleasurably felt deep within my shaft. I regretted unloading my own ejaculate in Doogan's mouth, that would have been an added bonus to watch him slurp it down his throat at some point during his heated sexual high that I had a feeling he would regret the whole episode soon after the drugs wore off, or when he awoke in his bed. I gave it to Alex full bore until my knees ached and my cock couldn't take any more abuse. He didn't complain and flopped down on his belly when I called it quits. His anal ring agape, red and swollen that shined in a slimy mixture of fluids and the distinct odor of a well fucked ass hinted the air along with the body odors, all of which reeked hard core sex like I'd never been exposed to before. It was nearing midnight by then, Jordie searched for his clothes, announcing that he had to go home. Quite comically, he tried adjusting his cock to no avail, deciding to tuck his t-shirt to hang over the prominent strain of his spandex shorts. Alex's request for his phone number was refused, there would be no more homosexual encounters, we'd all go our separate ways never to cross paths with Jordie again. The four of us took an intimate shower together jostling in a three step maneuver; wet down, lather, and rinse. Seemed we all needed to piss and really didn't care who sprayed who in a hilarious game that Doogan called "fire-hose." The bathroom floor took the brunt of the shower antics, slick with water and soap. It was a great day with an exhausting end. Sore, achy genitals prohibited further sex play and sleep was on everyone's mind. Branden and Alex took one bed and Doogan and I, the other as he would have it no other way, he wanted to cuddle me, a morning blow-job was rest assured. No doubt, Branden would be treated to an eye-opener as well. There would be no rush to blaze the trail in the morning. If the roads had opened, traffic would be horrendous and at a snail's pace and Annabelle hated the constant shifting of her low gears. Late afternoon travel at the legal speed limit would equate in the same distance at half the speed. Let the turtle-tourists get a head start; . . . me and Annabelle were sleeping in for a change! The heavy curtains prevented daylight from seeping in and with it, any guesstimate of time. Someone's underwear, my own perhaps, covered the LED display of the clock radio, only a red glow perforated the thin white material. Doogan's warm mouth did, however, indicate a restful slumber by him and the time to be sometime early or mid morning. Unless Doogan's wet suckling sounds were echoing in my foggy brain, I turned my head in the direction of the second source sounding like wet feet stomping a tiled floor. The TV had never been shut off and still cast a blue haze over the darkened room, and what I saw in the glow caused me to shake the cobwebs and become wide eye alert as if my dead mother was in the bed next to mine. Branden was atop Alex in a sixty-nine, both were equally enamored and engaged in a fervorous session of oral coupling. I expected no less from Alex, but Branden's avid investment was mind boggling, almost as jolting as Jordie's fervid decision to suck my cock! Doogan was doing a great job stimulating the lump of meat full in his mouth with his nose tickled by pubic hair. However, it was the scene in the next bed that was enough to choke him with the rapid expansion had he not been on the ball and gradually eased off accordingly. It was absolutely earth shattering. Branden had the upper position and freedom that that position demanded, full advantage of access, and he was making his stature well appreciated by the young man beneath being faced. Alex's neck and head straining upward to be plummeted, desperately striving to keep the younger teen's over zealousness from escaping his lips as the boy reared back and drove forward back into he vacuum, Alex's cheeks were sunken, the skin on his face contorted like a skeletal scull. Even his eye sockets showed a ghostly, lifeless appearance. Where Branden found his sudden libido could only be from one swayed source; Jordie! Without a doubt, his friend's freehearted spectacle performance was interpreted as an endorsement for casual, uninhibited bisexuality. What he didn't know was that Jordie was probably emotionally beating himself up at that exact moment, thanking his lucky stars that we were again to be nonentities in his life, a closed chapter. However, one man's pain is another man's gain. Thanks to Jordie, I had a good feeling that the next few days westward would be very satisfying with Branden's new outlook on things, the two of them were snorting and scoffing like pigs in a sty on an feeding frenzy! I wondered if they hadn't been into the Ecstasy again until I remembered Alex saying that the second generous pass around was the last of his supply. Doogan wasn't any less bashful in letting the room know what he was doing, no less taking his cue from Branden, but slightly more exaggerated to gain the attention. It scored him a fleeting side glance by Branden, enough to keep up appearances as "being one of the boys!" I had a premonition that, in a kind spirited sort of way, he would be offering blow-jobs to many boys and men who paid him a little homage. The boundaries would have to be explained, another mental note stored in my dumb trucker's memory bank. A ruckus of sputtering, spitting, throat heaving gobs erupted followed by Branden's voice of disdain, "I told ya to tell me when, Alex!" he scathed, while the geyser in his fist continued to spew a few more jettisons into the air. I couldn't resist defending Alex, "Fuck, Branden! --The guy can't even breathe, let alone talk!" I laughed, "Besides, it wouldn't be your first mouthful. --No one else here seems to have a problem with it." Quick thinking, I added the white lie, "Ya didn't see Jordie complain. Fuck, . . . I was afraid he was going to suck my nuts out through my cock and chew them to get more!" I chuckled. Bullshit baffling brains, Branden paused to consider that new bit of insight then went down on Alex to salvage whatever he could and resumed plunging the older teen, all forgotten as if there hadn't been a hiccup in the action at all. When he came, rearing his head in a howl, a milk-like mustache and goatee had formed caused by his cum-laden thumb and index finger smearing his mouth. The erotica of that sent me over the edge, the little trusty wet-vac never missed a drop! There wouldn't be a need to ask anyone if the highway had reopened as we made our way for breakfast, the parking lot was virtually empty. The Town of Buttfuck, Ontario was free of hostile occupation and everything was back to normal, including the Ontario Provincial Police Department, judging by the piece of paper flapping under Annabelle's wiper in the distance, the only vehicle seen illegally parked along side the highway. The double standards of the law, a tourist would get a warning citation, a trucker gets a hefty fine with no option but to pay it to the province, unless the remote possibility that you are in the vicinity to argue your case on the court date listed on the ticket. The cops for miles around would have raced to the scene of the crime in order to have added the violation to their duty quotas, one got lucky to be first on scene. The double standard doesn't just lie there. Whenever the cops are looking for someone or a vehicle, they don't hesitate to recruit assistance and occupy the CB radio channel with descriptions, or stop by the truck stops to hand out fliers. Nor do they take into account the all to frequent accidents where the trucker is usually the first responder, saving untold lives and humbly carry on his journey, the unknown hero. We bade Alex goodbye, an emotional moment by all except me, having his cellphone number and basic schedule routine safely tucked in my pocket. The boys hung out the window and waved and screamed adios' to an unseen Jordie somewhere out there, I gave the finger to the cop parked illegally on the side of the road as Annabelle picked up speed and cleared the township limits. Some truckers would make up time and drive well into the night risking deer, moose and bears with nothing else to do but stand in the middle of the highway and watch ya coming. I swear they are experts at the game of "chicken!" I picture them standing around the local watering hole bragging of the nights wins. Black rubber skid marks left after a semi's binders are applied scar the pavement, called "phantom marks" because they begin suddenly and lead nowhere, veering left or right and hopefully, not into the ditch. Nope. Not me. I drive my regular routine and shut down in my habitual spots, my contractor well advised of a twenty-four hour delay would already be making arrangements for a switch-load and turn around at the Rocky Mountains' foothills city of Calgary, Alberta; three-hundred miles short of Branden and Doogan's juvenile fantasy, fruit picking destination. It was time for a serious talk about that. I hated myself for getting emotionally involved, but could never live with the perilous thoughts of their destiny. Annabelle and I talked about it that night, she suggested I simply drive off while they were using a restroom, wash my hands of the whole matter, stuff some cash in Branden's back-pack of useless electronic toys and leave it, along with Doogan's kit on the curb-stone where they last seen us. She was a callous bitch, a heart of steel and the guts of grit and metal shavings. I closed her hood and thanked her for her opinion, stripped off my clothes and joined the two vulnerable naked boys skimming stones off the mirror-like surface on one of the many small, pristine waters of the "Lake Of The Woods" in God's Little Eden of dense forest, not far from the Ontario/Manitoba border. My trailer had been left at a weigh-station in order to traverse the two-miles of logging road. A full rig turn around would be an impossible feat unless another ten-miles of rough terrain was traveled before the Logging camp allowed such a maneuver. Annabelle was a Class "A" highway bitch, not an off road Class "C" whore truck built to withstand a rugged, abusive lifestyle. It would be repetitive and redundant of me to to delve into further portrayals of our sexual activities on route to Calgary. The bizarre orgy evening could never be topped, other than to to say that Doogan took a perverse liking of sitting on my lap at the wheel and fuck my cock, a sight that any motorist may shake their heads, questioning their millisecond of discernment observed in the windshield or side window of the semi passing like a bullet. At Calgary, I broke the news to Branden that it was the end of the line. It was another moment of decision no different than when he climbed aboard Annabelle 2,200 miles ago, only this time he was faced with his best friend being left behind. Doogan was staying with me, no two ways about it. He was going back to wherever Branden easily convinced him to leave. Parked in front of the Greyhound station, I gave him bus fare. Defiant and pissed off, he opened the door. I handed him his back-pack and wished him luck. Doogan was crying, his face pressed into and breath fogged up the passenger window, fists pounding on the glass. In my right exterior mirror, I saw the boy standing on the sidewalk as Annabelle moaned and groaned forward, she hated the downtown core of any city. Suddenly she sputtered, huffed and puffed and lurched forward to a stall blocking rush hour traffic and refused to re-engage her ignition. Click, click, click, she sounded much to my frustration and the impatient traffic backing up behind us. I must have been checking my mirrors to see the how much shit we were causing, when I seen the little figure running toward us in my convex lens, his most valued possessions cast aside so as not to encumber his sprint and flailing arms. Annabelle decided to wake up and roar at that exact moment, then purred like a kitten waiting for the teary eyed Branden to open the door and crawl inside. She did have a heart after all, she was determined to take BOTH boys safely home! The End!