Date: Thu, 31 Aug 2000 22:05:30 -0400 (EDT) From: Marc Subject: Roadrunner Disclaimer: The following story deals with sexual situations between consenting gay men. Certain sexual practices, such as watersports and scat, some readers may find offensive. If that is the case, and if you are under the age of eighteen, STOP HERE! Roadrunner By Rim4you Chapter One Ever since I was a kid, I was always intrigued with motorcycles. They seemed to me the untimate freedom machine. My Unlcle Bill had a Harley-Davidson and every now and then, he'd swing by the house in full leather gear: boots, chaps, jacket, much to the dismay of my Mom, who thought her younger brother looked like a thug in his gear, and offer to take me for a ride. "Can I go, Mom?" I'd ask. "You know how I feel about motorcycles, Chip!" She'd reply. "I don't like ..." "Dad!" I'd whine. "Ah let the boy go," Dad would respond, "Bill's a responsible cyclist and with his nephew in tow he sure won't pull any crazy stunts." "Come on, Sis," Bill would rise to my defense, "Chip likes to ride. He's my sidekick, my little Roadrunner." "Well I see all of you men are just ganging up on me. Okay, but ..." "Thanks, Mom!" I'd holler, tugging at my Uncle Bill quick before Mom had a chance to change her mind. "Hold on, Runner!" Uncle Bill would say, laughing. "We're goin' ... we're goin'!" Whenever my Uncle Bill took me for a ride on his bike, he always let me pick out a destination. Depending on the time frame we had available, I'd pick spots close to home in Sacramento. But if Uncle Bill showed up early, like on a Saturday morning, I'd inevitably pick out my favorite place: a scenic look-out point in Donner's Pass. The view was fantastic. I just loved it there at the Pass, in the Sierra Nevada mountain range of northern California, not too far from Truckee and Tahoe City. At fourteen, I was going through some major changes in my life: puberty. It was a rough balance between physical changes, emotions and being horny all the time! Straddled behind my Uncle Bill on these bike trips, my arms wrapped around his waist; my hands inches away from the bulge in his tight levis; the vibrations from the bike and the close proximity of my crotch to his backside; the smell of leather invading my nostrils all had its effects on the rising predicament between my legs. From time to time, during these rides, especially on the long ones out to Donner's Pass, Uncle Bill would drop his hand down to squeeze mine and as I squeezed my hand back, often then not, I'd feel his boner. He never attempted to swat my hand away whenever I "accidentally" groped him. In fact, he'd slide his ass back on the seat until my crotch was firmly against his butt. I knew he had to have felt my erection. When we'd reach my favorite destination, the look-out point, I'd hop off the bike and stare with wonder at the beauty nature spread out before me. Across from the look-out I could see the railroad tracks carved into the mountainside. "God! I love it here, Uncle Bill!" I'd gasp. "Thanks for bringing me here!" "This is our special place, Runner," he'd reply, "don't ever forget that!" "Oh I won't, Uncle Bill! Never!" Chapter Two I screamed. I cried uncontrollably on my eighteenth birthday when Dad broke the news to me that my Uncle Bill had been killed in a motorcycle accident. He had been sideswiped by a pick-up truck trying to pass him and he skidded out of control. "He was my best friend, Dad! He was teaching me how to ride! I loved him!" I sobbed and sobbed. "I know, son! I know," Dad replied, holding me in his arms, trying as best he could to comfort me and soothe my tears. "Where? Where did it happen, Dad?" I cried, my body heaving with pain and grief. "Close to Donner's Pass," Dad replied, holding me close. "No! ... Uncle Bill! ... No! No!" I screamed in anguish. "That was our special place, Dad! Please ... not there! Not Donner's ..." My voice trailed and I cried bitterly, holding on to my Dad. "Why, Dad? Why?" I wept, turning my tear stained face towards my father. "I don't know why, Chipper," Dad responded, lovingly, "but from what the police officer, who responded to the call of an accident said, was that your uncle kept repeating over and over, 'Roadrunner ... tell Runner I'm here and that I love him!" Hearing that I screamed in the deepest pain and clung to my father. "Uncle Bill! Uncle Bill!" I choked, over and over again. "I love you!" Chapter Three It's been six years now since my Uncle Bill passed away, but the memories of our trips to Donner's Pass still haunt me, draw me to this place of peace and serenity. Here, in a mountain pass of the vast Sierra Nevada's, I can reconnect to the joy of my childhood and my Uncle Bill. "This is our special place, Runner!" echoed in my head as I revved up my Harley and coasted to a stop at the look-out at Donner's Pass. A yellow rose tucked within my leather jacket to be left behind as a token for my Uncle, whom I never forgot and still grieved for. Hopping off of my bike, I headed towards the edge of the look-out and knelt, placing the rose onto the ground. My eyes welled up with tears as I took in the vista before me that I loved so much, and the memories of an Uncle who meant so much to me. "Are you okay?" A voice came from behind me. I turned slightly, towards the direction of the voice, swiping my hand across my tear stained face, so absorbed in my thoughts that I didn't hear the sound of another bike approaching. "Huh?" I uttered. "Are you okay?" the deep voice uttered again. "Yeah," I muttered, raising my arm to shield my face from the glittering sun, glimpsing the motorcycle cop who happened by. "I'm alright. I haven't broken any law or anything, have I?" "No!" the cop responded, "it's just that when I saw that your were upset and all ..." "Oh!" I said, trying hard to gain my composure, "it's just that my Uncle died here six years ago and he used to take me on a bike trip up here all the time when I was a kid ... it was my favorite place ... our special place!" "I'm sorry to hear that," the Officer responded, apporaching me. "It's just that when I saw you, and it was obvious that you were upset, I just wanted to make sure that you were okay." "I'll be alright. I make this trip every year on the anniversary of ..." I broke down and sobbed. "It's okay, buddy!" the Officer responded. "I understand." He clasped his arm around my shoulder in a comforting grip. "What's your name, son?" "Chip, sir," I stammered, "but everyone calls me Runner." "Runner? As in Roadrunner?" "Yes sir, why?" "Oh my God!" The motorcycle cop gasped. "I don't understand?" I questioned, my eyes brimming with tears. "You're not going to believe this Chip ... uh ... Runner. But about six years ago I responded to an emergency call about a motorcycle accident, here at the Pass." "And?" I choked. "Well ... uh ... I responded to that call and the young man who died in that accident kept saying over and over ...'tell Runner, or something to that effect, that I'm here and that I love him.'" "That's me!" I cried. "I'm Runner ... Roadrunner." "That's it ... Roadrunner!" "You mean, you're the Officer who came to help him? My Uncle Bill?" "If you're Runner ... or Roadrunner ... yes, son, I was here that day!" "Did he actually say those words?" I sobbed, falling into the powerful embrace of this strapping cop. "Yes, son, he did. I've often passed by this place always wondering who Runner was." "I'm Runner! He was my Uncle Bill!" "Ah, Runner!" the motorcycle cop said, with emotion in his voice, "I'm so sorry!" "Thank you! Thank you so much for trying to help him!" I wept. "I wish I could've done more, for your sake!" "He died on my eighteenth birthday! I'm twenty-four now." "Ah man!" The Officer sighed, holding me close and rubbing my back. "What's your name?" I asked. "Why ... uh ... my name's Adam!" "I'm Chip. But you can call me Runner." "I'm so glad to have finally met you, Runner. Every time I pass this look-out point, your Uncle's words have always haunted me ... 'tell Runner I'm here and that I love him!' I never dreamed that one day I'd actually happen upon you!" "Well, here I am! As I've always been for the last six years riding up here from Sacramento, to this, our special place, to be with him." "Runner! Can I talk you into riding into Truckee with me? To my place? Unless you have to get back to Sacramento anytime soon?" "That would be swell, Adam! I'd like that, if it's no problem with you?" "No prob!" Adam responded. "I'd enjoy the company very much!" With that said, Adam and I revved up our bikes and roared down the Pass towards Truckee. ****************************** If you have any comments or suggestions regarding this story, write to me at Rim4you @webtv.net