Date: Wed, 07 Apr 1999 23:35:23 -0500
From: lakesman@runestone.net
Subject: REST STOP RESCUE

REST STOP RESCUE 

"Just Give Me Something to Believe In."  I couldn't get the old song I'd
been hearing on the late night radio out of my mind as I sat in the public
restroom at a rest stop along the interstate at about 12:30 a.m.  I was on
my way home from a 3-day business meeting at the other end of the state.  A
lot of times I'll just stay the extra night when a meeting finishes up late
in the evening like this one had, but tonight I had decided I just wanted
to go home.  I almost jumped when I heard someone else come in.  Through
the crack between the door and the wall of the stall I could see he was a
tough-looking muscled, scraggly-faced, guy in Jeans, beat up cowboy boots
and a "beater."  He was smoking.  I wouldn't want to meet this guy in a
dark alley.

He was soon followed by a younger guy, about 19 and handsome in a boyish
way.  The kid looked a little rough and rumpled himself, as if he hadn't
had a decent night's sleep or seen a shower in a few days.  He took the
urinal right next to the tough guy.  I heard him say something in a
whisper.  The tough guy said "What?"  The kid said it again, this time loud
enough so I could hear it, "I'll suck your cock for twenty bucks."

The other guy exploded.  "I ain't no fuckin' faggot!" he screamed as he
punched the kid in the face.  I WAS FREAKED!  I wasn't a faggot, as he
said, either, but I didn't want to see this kid get hurt.  As the boy
crumpled to the floor and cowered against the wall, the tough guy kept
shouting, "god damn, mother fuckin' faggots.  Ought to shoot 'em all."  He
zipped up his pants, then, and walked over and kicked the kid in the side
as hard as he could.  "Fuck you, you little faggot!"  he shouted.  "You're
lucky this ain't Wyoming!"  Then he turned and stormed out.  The kid just
pulled his knees up tight to his body, burried his face in his hands and
sat there against the wall crying.

"Damn," I thought.  "Beating on defenseless kids.  I guess we're still
looking for something else to believe in.  The bastard could just have said
no."  I heard his truck tires squeal as he ripped out of the parking lot.

Something stirred in me as I heard the boy crying softly.  I decided to do
something I'd never do under normal circumstances.  I decided to help.  I
finished my business, hiked up my pants and went out to talk to him.
Looking at him brought tears to my eyes which embarassed the hell out of
me.  I almost turned and walked away, but no, I'd set out to help him and I
was going to do it.  I put my hand on his shoulder and he jumped.  "It's
o.k., I said gently.  You didn't deserve that."

I helped him to his feet and he fell against me.  He buried his head in my
shoulder and started to sob.  I felt really awkward.  I didn't know what to
do with my hands.  I'd never hugged another guy before, but it seemed like
the right thing to do, so I wrapped my arms around him and held him tight.
He just seemed to melt against me.

It must have been ten minutes before his sobs subsided, and all the while I
was feeling a strange combination of warmth and tenderness for this young
kid in my arms and discomfort at what anyone who came in might think.
Suddenly he pulled away.  "I'm sorry," he said as he turned toward the
door.  I caught his arm just as he began to push his way out into the
night.  "Have you got someplace to go?"  I asked.

"Listen," he said, "I'm not your problem.  I'm not anybody's goddam
problem."

"Why don't you let me decide that," I said.  " What's your name?"  "Nick,"
he answered.  "Do you have a place to go?" I asked again.  "No," he said.
"Then come with me," I said as I thought to myself, "What the fuck are you
doing, Dan?"

Picking up stray kids was not exactly my style.  Caring about other people
was not exactly my style.  I had built myself a nice, comfortable life with
no attachments.  Oh, I played racketball and ran laps at the health club,
but that was just to keep in shape.  I was "one of the guys," but I didn't
really know any of them and I wanted to keep it that way.

Women?  Oh, I'd dated several over the years, but they all seemed to have
one of two approaches.  Either they wanted to marry me so they could work
less and have more fun, or they wanted me to fit whatever they needed at
the moment and got pissed off when I had the audacity to suggest that I
might need something else.

I had a busy life as things were: my own house, a demanding job.  I didn't
need anything else.  So what was I doing with this kid sitting on the other
side of the front seat of my Accura?  A gay kid on top of everything else?
"Dan, you must be losing it!"  I said to myself.

I looked over and noticed that Nick was sleeping.  "I guess he'll have to
spend the night at my place," I decided.  When we got home, I didn't have
the heart to wake him, so I carried him in like a little kid and laid him
down on my king-size water bed.  I was surprised at how little he weighed.
I wasn't sure if I should, but I stripped him down to his underwear before
I covered him with a thick layer of blankets.  He barely stirred. "Well,
Nick," I whispered softly, "I'm not quite sure what I'm doing, but somehow
I'm glad you're here."  I grabbed my pajamas and went to sleep in the guest
bedroom.

I'm glad the next day was Saturday, because I really slept late.  I woke up
about 10:30 when I heard the shower come on in the master bedroom.  It took
me a minute to remember where I was and why I was sleeping in the guest
room.  I was glad Nick had taken it upon himself to jump in the shower.  I
was a little uneasy about going in the bedroom, but I decided "what the
hell.  I'm sure gay guys have seen me dressing before, I just didn't know
it."

I was in the middle of zipping up my pants when Nick came strolling out of
the bathroom with a towel draped over his shoulders.  "Could I borrow a
pair of clean underwear?" he asked.  "Sure," I replied.  "They might be a
little big for you."  "Anything's better than these!" he said as he tossed
me the ragged, dirty pair he must have been wearing for the last week.
"I've got a pair of sweats you can wear too," I said.  "Sure, anything's
fine," Nick said.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't look at him while he stood there.  He was
very boyish in the face, with a slender waist and no hips, but his
shoulders were broader, more adult-like.  And it was clear that there was
one place my underwear wouldn't be too big.  I'd never seen a crotch like
his before.  Big, full balls which were hanging low and loose from the hot
shower he'd taken and a cock which was thick and at least 6" long even when
soft.  I couldn't take my eyes off his crotch.  It was beautiful!

Then I realized I was staring.  I felt myself blush and quickly turned
away.  I rumaged through my closet until I found the sweats I'd promised
Nick while my heart pounded in my chest.  I was sweating and I didn't know
why.  As I handed him the sweats, I fought to compose myself.  I stuffed
down whatever those feelings were that made my heart pound, and convinced
myself that this was just a kid who's life had taken a bad turn and whom I
was going to rescue.  I was going to help him get a new start and then send
him on his way.

"Would you like something to eat?" I asked.  "Sure," he replied.  "What did
you have in mind?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.  I blushed again when it
hit me what he meant.  "Breakfast!" I blurted out.  "You know, pancakes,
eggs, sausage, waffles." "Oh," he said, looking embrassed.  "Sure.  Now
that you mention it, I'm really hungry."

Someplace inside I was really angry that he'd think what he had about me,
but then I remembered the tough guy from the night before and decided this
kid didn't need more anger.  Besides, what else would he think about a
40-something year old man who would pick up an obviously gay 19-year-old at
a rest stop late at night?  No, what Nick needed now was help and
understanding and reassurance.

We headed for my favorite breakfast spot.  He ordered a breakfast that
would choke a horse after asking me about a dozen times if it was o.k.  As
we ate, I couldn't resist asking how he had come to be at the rest stop the
night before.

"It's a long story," he warned me.  "That's o.k., I said, "We've got all
day."  "Well," he began, and the story came out between bites of food.  It
seemed he had grown up in a small town in the NW corner of the state.  His
dad was the minister of a really conservative church and Nick was the
angelic preacher's kid.  He was perfect in every way.  Charming, studious,
musically gifted, athletically talented: Mr. Wonderful.

He graduated at the top of his class in the small church-run school over
which his dad presided.  That he never dated despite the fact all the girls
and their mothers found him charming just made him more of a hero to his
parents and the other adults of his dad's church.

What nobody realized was what Nick had always known.  He didn't give a damn
about girls.  It was the guys he wanted.  The first time he ever felt horny
was when he was watching a friend change into his swimming suit.  That was
when he was twelve.  His feelings had never altered, only gained strength.
He kept them well hidden until he went to college.

But college was a different world.  His parents sent him to a private
religious college at the other end of the state. Although he was reluctant,
he didn't argue.  The college was in the suburbs of a large metro area - an
area well known for its gay population.  Somehow, he'd find a way to
explore his feelings for other guys.

As it turned out, he never had to leave the campus.  During the first week
of his freshman year, he noticed the guy at the urinal next to him taking a
good, long look at his crotch.  He returned the favor.  Looks led to
touches and they retired to his private room for a hot and heavy night of
sexual exploration and adventure.  Their relationship solidified over the
next few months, but unfortunately it also became more visible as well.

Dorm mates began to notice that Nick and Jack spent every waking moment
together, and Jack's roomate began to wonder where Jack was spending his
nights.  Guys were certainly not allowed to sleep in girl's rooms.
Everything came to a head, so to speak, when Jack and Nick were discovered
in bed together, with Nick's 8-1/2 inch cock deep in Jack's throat.  Both
were promptly expelled and sent home, Nick to his small town and Jack back
to England.

Nick's parents were shocked to say the least.  His dad screamed at him for
an hour, beat him for an hour and then threw him out into a chilly Spring
night with nothing but the few dollars in his wallet and the clothes he was
wearing.

When I met Nick, he'd been hitchiking for five days, on the back roads,
trying to get back to the city.  He'd taken the back roads because he
didn't want to have to face his dad who might try to talk him or even force
him into some kind of counseling to "fix" his perverted psyche.

I was fascinated watching Nick tell his story.  It all seem so
matter-of-fact.  I was really angered and broken up in turns by what what
he said, but he seemed completely at ease as he told his heart-wrenching
story.  "Doesn't any of this upset you, Nick?"  I asked.

"Not anymore, not really.  I had a lot of time to think while I was on the
road.  Besides, your rescuing me last night just confirmed what I already
thought - that when the time came, I'd find a new life and I'd be fine."

"But how can you just write off your family like that?"  I asked.

"You've got to understand, Dan," he said.  "I knew this was only a matter
of time in coming.  I guess in my heart I disowned my family and friends
long ago.  I mean, how can you feel close to, how can you love people when
you know that if they knew the truth about you; if you weren't perfect, if
you let it slip that you were really what they considered the worst kind of
slimy pervert, they'd do just exactly what they did last week.  IT DIDN'T
HURT AT ALL!"  Nick said, slowly and deliberately, through clenched teeth
as the tears began to roll down his face.

I reached out rather akwardly and touched his arm.  "I'm really sorry,
Nick," I said.  "You didn't deserve what they did to you."

"I know I didn't," Nick said, "but they did it anyway."

"For what it's worth, Nick, I think you're right to write them off, at
least for now."  "Thanks," he said, wiping his eyes.

I decided it was time to change the subject.  "You know, Nick, you're going
to need some new clothes to wear," I said.

"Yeah, I was thinking about that this morning," he answered.  "I wouldn't
mind lending you some money for clothes, just until you get back on your
feet," I suggested.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Sure," I said.  What I didn't tell him was that I had leant money to
friends and relatives before, and never expected to get it back from
anyone.

Nick insisted that we go to the Salvation Army to find clothes.  I was
reluctant, but he eventually convinced me that whatever he could find there
would be fine for a college student.  The amazing things was, he mangaged
to pick out some very sharp looking stuff.  I suppose it didn't hurt that
anything he put on looked sharp because he was wearing it.  Aside from
underwear and sox, which we bought elsewhere, we got everything he needed
for less that $200.

The next few weeks are pretty much a blur.  Nick transfered to the
University, and, although I was used to living alone, it just seemed
natural that he'd stay with me.  We set up some ground rules and overall,
things went pretty smoothely.  I got used to having another person around,
in fact I liked it.  Nick never failed to notice when I was stressed out.
He gave great back and shoulder rubs.  He even gave me a couple of
full-body massages in front of the fireplace.

In fact, that was what Nick was best at.  Even though I was helping him pay
for school and buying the food we ate, those things were really just pocket
change for me.  But Nick went out of his way to look after me.  He was
always home and awake when I got home from a long trip or from working
late.  He was always ready to listen or share his day with me - always
ready to give me a massage.  He really seemed to want to know ME, without
asking me to be someone else.

Finally there came a day when I wanted to pay him back for everything he'd
given me.  I'd had a fairly easy time with a big sale and I was in a good
mood when I got home.  Nick, on the other hand, had been studying hard for
two days.  I could tell that he was really tense about the next day's exam.
He came out of the study, stretched his arms above his head and asked "How
was your day?"

"Fine," I said.

"Why don't we open a bottle of wine, spread a quilt in front of the
fireplace and I'll give you a massage for a change," I suggested.

"That sounds really good!" Nick said.  He built a fire while I opened the
wine.

I'd never given a massage before, but I hoped I'd learned something from
the ones Nick gave me.  I started with Nick lying on his stomach.  I slowly
began to work my way down from his shoulders to his feet.  Somewhere along
the way Nick began to sniffle noticeably.  "What's wrong, Nick?" I asked.
"Nothing," he said. "Wine always makes my nose run."

As I continued to rub the oil into Nick's warm, smoothe skin, I couldn't
help but notice his body: his broad shoulders, his slender waist, his
smoothe, firm hairless butt.  The smell of the cologne he always wore
filled the air around us and mingled with the gentle smell of smoke from
the fire in the fireplace.

As I worked on his bottom, he relaxed and spread his legs, letting me work
deep into his crotch from behind.  My hands brushed his balls lightly as I
continued working his buttocks and down his legs.  I could just barely make
out his ball sack in the shadows between his legs.  On impulse, I reached
deeper and massaged each of his balls lightly.  They felt good to my touch;
exotic and interesting.

I moved down Nick's legs and then asked him to turn over.  As I started
working up the front of his feet and legs, I noticed that his cock was
about half hard, which didn't surprise me, since mine had often been too,
when Nick gave me massages.  I also noticed that his eyes were wet.

I carefully skirted his crotch as I moved up, just as he had always done
with me.  As I moved up his abdomen to his chest, Nick's sniffles
increased.  When I got to his head, there were tears running down the sides
of his face.  My eyes were wet, too.

"What's wrong, Nick?" I asked.  "Nothing," he said, "it's just that
nobody's touched me like this since I got kicked out of college."  I
reached down and brushed the tears from his eyes.  Suddenly I was
overwhelmed by a lonely, aching feeling in my own chest.  The tears began
to run down may face, too.  Instinctively, I reached out and pulled Nick to
me in a tight embrace.  "I'm so sorry, Nick," I said.  "You've been so
lonely, and I didn't notice."

"It's o.k., Dan, you noticed now," he answered.  Suddenly I wanted to be
closer to him.  I couldn't get enough of him, his smell, his feel, his
voice, his touch.  I held him up against me as tightly as I could.  We both
cried some more.  I surprised myself by tenderly kissing his tears away.

Then Nick began to unbutton my shirt.  I almost argued, but then I knew I
wanted whatever was coming next.  Slowly, carefully, lovingly, he stripped
me naked.  By the time he pulled off my boxer shorts, my cock was hard as a
rock.  Nick pulled me close and the feel of his warm skin against mine was
intoxicating.

We held each other tightly for what seemed like hours but still wasn't long
enough.  Then Nick kissed me full on the lips.  Our tongues touched gently,
tentatively back and forth.  He pulled off and began to give me a thorough
massage using only his tongue.  It was almost unbearable.  He worked from
my head to my toes, skirting my aching cock.

Finally, he worked his way back up my legs to my balls.  He licked and
sucked them.  He pulled the hairs on them with his teeth.  He sucked them
both into his mouth and gently pulled and stretched my ball sack.  He
lifted them with his hand and gently tickled and sucked the sensitive hairs
beneath them.

When he finally began to lick up the bottom side of my cock with little
flicks and darts of his tongue and little nibbles of his teeth, I moaned
loudly.  Then he plunged my whole cock down his throat at once.  I could
hardly stand it, the feeling was so intense.  He gently moved in and out on
my sensitized cock, licking and lightly scraping it was his teeth all the
while.

I saw stars.  It was as if all of me was shooting out of my cock into
Nick's warm, loving mouth.  I opened my eyes to see us both wrapped in a
golden aura.  I shot again and again.  Nick swallowed over and over, but he
couldn't keep up with it.  My cum ran down from the corners of his mouth to
his chin.  After all, I hadn't come for months.

When my orgasm finally subsided, he kept me in his mouth.  He continued to
gently tongue and suck and nibble until my cock began to swell again.  He
sucked me to another earth-shattering explosion.  Finally I pulled him
close again.  But I wasn't going to let this be like the massages he gave
me.

I kissed Nick and then started to give him the same treatment he had given
me.  Oh, I had a little trouble with that beautiful 8 1/2 cock, but I was
fascinated by it at the same time: the sweet, salty, clean taste, the
texture, the bumpy veins I could feel with my tongue, the smootheness of
the head, the deep slit in the top, the way it filled my mouth to
overflowing, the coarse hairs at its base, the way it got bigger and harder
as I worked on it.

When Nick moaned loudly and started to his shoot his cum down my throat, I
was caught by surprise, but it was so warm, so interesting to taste -
exotic and delicious, I swallowed it hungrily and wanted more.  After
Nick's second explosion, we wrapped the quilt around us, pulled each other
close, and slept for several hours.  As I was drifting off, I felt more
contented than I could ever remember.  I realized how empty my life had
been up until now.  I woke before Nick.  I pulled him close as he slept and
he curled up next to me.  The warmth of his body pressed against mine felt
so good!

We did many things over the next few days.  We enjoyed each other's bodies
in as many different ways as we could imagine. And we talked.  We decided
to make a commitment to each other.  We found a local clergyperson who
performed a "coupling" ceremony for us.  I wore a black tux and formal
shoes.  Nick wore a white tux and white Nike's.

Oh, it hasn't all been happily-ever-after.  25 year's age difference does
present some challenges.  And Nick's dad showed up at our place ranting and
raving one afternoon when he found out that Nick had "married" another man.
But overall, I've got no regrets.  Neither does Nick (at least I don't
think so).  And I've come to realize that, I may have rescued Nick from
that rest stop, but in the end he was the one who rescued me.


... Of course I wish this story were true, but it's just a fantasy.  I hope
you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Send Comments to: lakesman@runestone.net