White and Red

by Greg Bowden


I make my living driving a big rig--you know, one of those guys who pilots 30,000 pounds of cargo on eighteen wheels down the highway at 70 miles an hour. I like being on the road; I'm pretty much my own boss, I don't have to wear a tie, the pay is good and, as a bonus, I can play with my dick just about any time I get the urge.

Of course, being a truck driver has its down side, too. It's sedentary, it can be awfully boring and the road is full of nuts who think they know how to drive. There's not much you can do about the boredom except listen to the radio or play with yourself and there's nothing at all you can do about the nuts. As to being sedentary, I carry a set of weights and one of those spring loaded tension gizmos with me and see to it that I use them most every day.

Oh yeah, one more thing I like about being on the road: the men you meet along the way. It never ceases to amaze me how many guys there are out there looking for a way to get their rocks off. And I'm always happy to help out wherever I can.

After driving the highways for a year or two, if you're horny like me, you develop a sort of radar in your head, some sixth sense that tells you somebody else is horny too. I don't know what that sense is but I know for sure that I've got it.

Take last week, for example. I was on a long cross country run--somewhere in Kansas, I guess--and had cut off on a connector highway, heading from one interstate to another. Now that road is pretty well traveled but the traffic is almost all guys like me, driving big trucks and trying to shave eighty or so miles off their day's run. Maybe that's why my mental radar began to ping when I saw the little white pickup pulled off to the side. I decided to stop and see what there was to see.

There was just room for me to get my rig off the highway beside the pickup which was parked almost in the bushes at the edge of the pullout. Leaning over, I could see that the passenger door was open and it looked as though someone was lying on the seat, but I couldn't be sure. I climbed out of my truck and walked around to the bushes on the far side of the pickup. Yep, there was a guy lying on the front seat all right, his legs hanging out the open door, his arms crossed on his chest and his head propped up on some sort of makeshift pillow. He was pretending to be asleep.

I watched him for a few moments and then pulled my dick out to take a piss. As soon as I started popping the buttons on my jeans the guy's eyelids began to twitch a little and by the time my water hit the ground he was watching me through slitted eyes. I teased him a little, holding my dick with that overhand grip some guys use at the urinal when they're afraid you might see something.

The guy in the truck lazily moved one hand down to his crotch and scratched, showing me that he was dressed to the right. He didn't take his hand away and it looked to me like what he'd scratched had grown in size just a bit.

I finished peeing, milked it down a couple of times and then put it away but didn't button up. I looked right at the guy and said, "How's it goin', buddy?"

He gave a little nod but didn't say anything. It was like he couldn't decided if he was still pretending to be asleep or not. He did give the bulge in his jeans a squeeze though, and it definitely began to grow.

I stepped over to him and he spread his legs wider so I could stand between them. I did that and then just stood, looking down at his crotch. After a minute or so he made his move, outlining his cock for me, pushing the worn denim tight around it with his thumb and forefinger. It looked like a very nice cock. I glanced at his face and he licked his lips, through with playing possum. His eyes opened and I could see the need in them; he was very horny and he wanted me to do something about it. I let my hand brush along the inside of his leg, up toward the crotch.


He gave a little nod. When I didn't move any further he finally spoke.

"Yeah. Okay."

He slid towards me a little, so my hand was tight in his crotch, my knuckles pressed into his balls. I moved up to his dick, outlining it with my thumb and forefinger, like he had done. I could feel the heat of it through his jeans.

"Nice," I said, looking at his face again. A little smile played over his lips and I felt his dick grow hard under my hand.

"Must be feeling pretty crowded in there," I said, squeezing it again. "Maybe we should give it some room."

"If you want."

He clasped his hands behind his head and the sun caught his wedding ring in a quick flash of gold. I guessed he felt that if he didn't help it would be okay, not his responsibility. His jeans were old and soft and the buttons came open easily. The head of his dick had pushed out from under the elastic of his bright red briefs, the dark pink of the head contrasting with the lightness of the skin that almost covered it. There was a tiny drop of liquid forming at the pee slit and I watched it slowly grow before I reached out and touched it, smearing it around what showed of the pink head. He groaned and hunched backward so more of his cock pushed out of his briefs. I petted it for a moment and then took hold of the waistband of his jeans. "Let's get rid of these."

"If you want."

I pulled his short boots off and then put my hand under his ass, raising him so I could pull his jeans and shorts off. I folded the jeans neatly and put them on the floor of the truck beside him, the bright red briefs spread out on top. I've always been a sucker for pretty underwear. Then I knelt down and licked his balls.

He sucked in his breath. "Oh, yeah!"

He liked it.

I took one of his balls into my mouth and rolled it around with my tongue; it felt heavy and loose in its soft, wrinkled sack. So did the other one. Then I worked my way up to the base of his cock and buried my nose in the tightly curled hair that bushed around it. He smelled of Ivory soap mixed with male musk and a tiny hint of something sharp and sweet.

I liked it.

My own dick was feeling pretty crowded by this time so I pulled it out, giving it room to grow. Then I took a deep breath and slowly slid my mouth over his cock, sucking it in until my nose was back in his bush. It felt good, the wiry hair tangling in my mustache. He started to thrash around a bit but caught himself and lay still, like it wasn't nice to show you liked it. When my air ran out I raised up enough to take another breath and then dropped back down on him. This time he bucked, pushing himself further into my throat and I began to swallow, working his cock with my throat muscles. He was breathing hard.

I sensed that he wasn't going to last much longer if I wasn't careful so I let his cock slip out of my mouth and went back to his balls. I licked up under the soft sack and then let my tongue follow that little ridge of skin that joins a man's balls to his ass. Before I was half way there he began to squirm around on the seat, lifting his legs so I could get to him.

"Jesus, man, what're you doing?"

I patted him on the buttocks. "Nothing you won't like." I wet my finger and gently touched his sphincter. He sucked in his breath and stiffened up, his feet pressing against my shoulders, but then he relaxed, slowly, like wax melting in the sun. Some of the tension came out of his sphincter and I felt it loosen, letting my finger have its way. It wasn't long before he began to push back, wanting my finger inside him.

I knew it would soon be time; I dug into my pocket and found one of the rubbers I always carry with me, the kind that are pre-treated with that super slick silicon lube. I tore the foil packet open and then carefully unrolled the tight latex over the stiffness of my dick. I spit into my hand and wet him before I stood up, holding his legs against my chest.

"Hey, man, what..."

I pressed my dick up against the pucker of his ass, not hard, just enough to let him know it was there.

"No way."

But he didn't push away. I reached under his tee shirt and found his nipples. They were already erect, hard little points that grew harder as I rolled them gently between my fingers. He groaned and closed his eyes. I waited, still pressed against him.

"I can't, man. I mean..."

He still didn't move away. I slipped his tee shirt up under his arms so I could see his tits. When I squeezed his nipples he groaned again and took a deep breath. I felt his sphincter relax a little.

"Easy, easy, man. I don't think I..."

He relaxed a bit more and the head of my dick pushed a little way into him.

"Oh, shit, man. What're you doing?"

I patted his ass a couple of times. He moaned quietly and I patted a little harder. He liked that so I gave him a good swat. He arched his back and the head of my dick slipped all the way into him.

"Oh, fuck!"

I swatted him again, harder, and he took another couple inches of my dick up his ass. He sighed and gave in to himself.

"Okay, yeah. Let's do it, okay? Please?"

I slowly pushed into him until my balls were tight against his ass and then waited, letting him get used to the feel of me inside him. When it seemed right, I tried a couple of short strokes. He clamped his ass down on my dick as though he didn't want to ever let it go. I smacked his ass cheek with the flat of my hand.

"Oh, fuck, man. Fuck, fuck, fuck."

His ass relaxed a little and I pulled back, almost all the way out. Then I pushed back in, feeding him my whole dick in one long stroke. His ass clamped back down on me so I slapped his butt again, hard.

He sucked in his breath. "Yeah!"

The inside of his ass was hot and slick and made my dick tingle with pleasure. His cock jutted up, over his belly, the dark head almost clear of its pale foreskin. Pre-cum dripped onto his belly, more each time I pushed my dick into him. It wasn't long before I felt my toes begin to curl in my boots and I knew I was close to the edge. He was beginning to whimper, deep down in his throat so I knew his time was close, too. I helped him along with a couple of upward thrusts, hitting that soft knob inside him and making his cock jerk and dribble more pre-cum on his belly.

When I passed the point of no return--that moment when, no matter what you might do to stop it, you're going to come--I pushed in deep and stopped, holding myself still in him. Slowly, starting at my toes, that warm chill of orgasm spread itself through my body, blocking out everything with its sweet ache until it left nothing but itself. Then my dick let go and began spewing hot cum in him like a fountain.

I pushed him over his edge with a sharp, hard slap on the ass. He sucked in his breath and his cock began pumping out cum, the first shot hitting him on the chin, the rest of it making puddles on his chest. He grabbed on to his dick and began working it, his hand glistening with the cum that dribbled over it. I gave him another couple of swats on the ass, hard enough so he'd remember them for a good while, the sting taking the place of any guilt he might have over taking a man's dick up his ass and loving it.

When we were finished, we stayed coupled for a minute or two, savoring the feel of being connected to each other, man to man. When I began to go soft I patted his buns, burnishing the sting he was going to feel for the next couple of hours, and then slowly pulled out of him. I slipped the rubber off, tied it and tossed it into the brush.

While I wiped the cum off my dick and peed, he climbed out of the pickup and mopped his face and chest with a rag he got from somewhere. He was kind of cute, standing there in nothing but his socks and a tee shirt pulled up to his arm pits, his dick jutting out, still half hard. He gave me a sheepish grin, pulled the tee shirt down and started looking around for his pants.

When he was dressed I walked him around to the driver's side and held out my hand. He grinned at me, shook my hand and climbed into the pickup. I could see him wince as he sat but he flashed me a smile, revved up the engine and drove off.

That night, while I was falling asleep, I pictured him making it with his wife. Did she wonder, I thought, at the way his ardor increased every time she grabbed him by the buns? Or did she just surrender to him and enjoy it, perhaps wishing he'd take a few hours off by himself more often?


Comments and criticism gratefully received and always answered.

Greg Bowden