Please note: The following story is protected under international copyright and all rights are held by the author. For more information or to obtain reprint rights or explore other uses, please email to "twylamarie at ymail.com" It's very hard to put your life in writing like this. If you liked what you read, can identify with it, or simply didn't understand it or found a typo, drop me a line. All thoughts and input are appreciated. ##### I always knew Billie was gay -even when he was a very young age - but seeing him there in the sleeper cab of that truck sucking off a driver made it all too real. I watched it all from the passenger seat in the cab while the driver watched me. I'd taken off my blouse and pants and was busy undoing my bra. I was humiliated - but doing what I had to do to not freeze to death. I'd sworn to myself when I'd run away from home that I'd never strip or turn tricks, and here I was doing one and watching the other. Outside it was somewhere below freezing and Billie and I had talked our way into this truckers cab based on selling him a little pot to help him take the edge off while he waited out the storm. It wasn't enough money to get shelter or food for ourselves and when we broached the idea of bunking with the trucker his first offer was that I do the one sucking him off, but Billie knew it wouldn't fly. Lots of truckers had made similar or better offers. So far I'd held my ground. Billie sensed the truckers need though, and said he'd do the honors if it would keep us inside and warm, and the trucker was intrigued but not sold. Having me strip down to my panties (he'd asked for more) plus Billie's mouth got us a warm place to sleep for the night and breakfast in the morning. It didn't get us a ride back to town - which was what we really needed - but that would come later. If all Billie had done though was blow the driver, I wouldn't really have thought less of him. It would have been weird, sure, but I'd seen him do some weird things before with men and we were in a world of hurt and needed help. What made this different, though, was how much he was enjoying it. Not the trucker - Billie - as he went to work on the truckers cock his own zipper was swollen like a circus tent. I removed my bra and sat it on the driver's seat and felt his eyes rape me as he put his hand on the back of billie's head and pushed down. The smirk on that old man's face let me know that the lust in his eyes was for me. The way he used Billie's hair to direct him up and down was cruel and meant to be demeaning though Billie was absolutely humming with the excitement of it all. As the old man summoned me and reached out to paw my breast, I felt the tears swell up in my eyes, and recoiled. That wasn't part of the bargain and he knew it. He laughed, give me a kissy face and told me that he wanted me to spread my legs apart. (That part unfortunately had been.) Spreading my legs gave him a view as my underwear were old and thread worn. I am sure he was pleased. I tried to keep my emotions in check as it wasn't hard to see that this animal was enjoying my embarrassment and discomfort. If I would have had any choice, I'd have grabbed my stuff and been out of there for good but this was the second big storm in the area in a week and the backlot was pretty much deserted. Most of the drivers had chosen to hole up at a nearby hotel. So I just sat there and felt myself degraded and ignored his periodic requests for me to do lewd things to myself. He was just pushing my buttons though. He didn't try to change the bargain. Eventually, Billie's work had his attention enough that he lost his taste for torturing me with his eyes and words and focused in on the boy's head bobbing up and down in his lap. I had watched something like this a few times in the last year - if basically living around truck stops gave no other opportunities, there was always the chance of watching tricks going down in the parking lots. I'd even been paid good money to sit and watch once and so I was ready for the stupid scrunched faces, the gasps for breath. I'd seen it before and this was no more or less disgusting. Then I glanced down and saw that Billie's pants were wet in front. It was not enough for him to have pissed himself though if he had I wouldn't have been surprised. The driver had been practically choking him with his cock and more than once I'd had to plead with him to back off and a man chocking to death could be forgiven for losing control of his bladder. There just wasn't enough moisture there. No, Billie had definitely jizz'd his pants. He was still hard, but the stain was evident. I was disgusted. Finally, our evenings host popped his cork and Billie wasn't given a choice whether or not he would swallow or spit courtesy of the two rough hands holding him down for a long while. The unmistakable smell of paid for sex was in the air - sweat, spunk and desperation. The hands were finally withdrawn and Billie was given permission to leave though remarkably he lingered. When he did withdraw his face was wet with saliva and a few tears. The pearly sheen of semen wasn't evident, though it's hard to be sure. No one spoke. Billie and his new friend curled up in the sleeping area while I reached for my bra and began re-dressing in the same clothes I'd worn for a few days. The driver motioned for me to join them in the back, but we both knew I wasn't having that. I made myself as comfortable as I could in the seat and settled back for the night. Somewhere before dawn I heard sounds from the back that told me both men were awake and active, though I pretended to sleep through it. At least no one asked me to take my clothes off again. At morning, we were dumped out of the truck cab $60 dollars richer as payments, and carrying a supply of cigars, a half pint of whiskey and a few other items I had managed to steal overnight. I usually wasn't a thief, but that night I was. Because Fuck him. It might be hours or even days before the driver detected anything missing, but he would probably realize soon I'd pulled some fuses under the dashboard. While removing them, I fantasized about the idea of this asshole stranded on the side of the road negotiating with another heartless trucker and the trucker telling him that in order to save his ass he would have to give up a piece of it. Billie and I didn't talk over breakfast nor again most of the day, and when we did it was about how we had simply did what was necessary to survive, though we both knew something bigger had happened.