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From: The Naked Trucker <NakedTrucker@juno.com>
Subject: Trucker Encounter VII: "Moving Day" (m/m/m)
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----------------------------
Trucker Encounter VII:
----------------------------
"Moving Day"
----------------------------
By The Naked Trucker
----------------------------
(NakedTrucker@juno.com)
----------------------------

Thursday, December 4th. I had flown out to visit friends in
Seattle when I was paged by John, a buddy from a major national
moving company. Like many haulers, movers use many owner-
operators to move household and office furniture across the
country, and my buddy had sprained a shoulder and was unable to
drive a load to the east coast. He asked if I would drive the
load, and I gladly accepted. It had been a few months since I had
done a cross-country run, and the thought of being paid to get
back east instead of paying an airline to take me was an
attractive one.

I had never driven a household load, and was in for a few
surprises. A cross-country moving van is not a straight truck
(like local moving vans), it's a tractor-trailer like the ones
used to haul countless other types of freight. I had seen them
before, and one of the things I noticed was that the sleeper cabs
tended to be bigger than on regular tractor-trailers. In fact,
some of them look like they could almost be small houses, often
two or three times the size of a normal condo sleeper.

I arrived at the terminal to orient myself to the rig, and was in
for a shock as I entered the tractor. It had a standard-size
condo behind the cab, containing a a table and chairs with
overhead storage cabinets on one side, and additional storage
compartments on the other side along with a TV/VCR combination,
refrigerator, and microwave oven. Behind the condo unit was an
even bigger stand-up sleeper cab with four sleeper beds - two on
each side of the rear unit. I quickly realized that I wouldn't be
driving alone - the moving crew would be coming along with me to
do the unloading at the new house of the family we were moving.

These days, drivers drive. And that's all. Even when hauling
standard freight, long-haul drivers generally don't have to load
or unload their rigs. If a shipper or receiver doesn't load or
unload cargo, the driver can hire "lumpers" to do the heavy work.
The reason is that if a driver is injured while lifting heavy
cargo, he is totally out of commission - he can't even drive.
Therefore, because of the vigorous training that long-haul
drivers go through in order to operate a big rig, the task of
loading and unloading falls to others. Also, in the case of
moving companies, loading itself requires special skills to
ensure that household goods can be transported across the country
without being damaged.

I had a week to get the truck across the country, so I would be
the only driver on this load. John had hired three guys through a
local manpower office in Seattle to do the moving, loading the
furniture and household items in Seattle and unloading it just
outside Washington, D.C. The guys would then take a train back to
Seattle and I would "deadhead" the truck to Philadelphia -
driving it without freight - where John would fly in and pick it
up for a return trip following a couple of weeks rest.

I didn't relish the thought of sharing the truck with three
strangers across the country. It's one thing to meet up with
someone for an encounter along the road, but after it's over you
can move on in your own space. At the same time, I knew that to
move an entire household, you had to be in shape, and I was
intrigued by the thought of who would be accompanying me for the
ride.

If appearances were anything, I wasn't disappointed. The guys
arrived one by one and I got to meet them as each one loaded his
gear onto the rig. Dave was the first to come on board, a 26-
year-old hunk who had gotten his muscles the hard way - by
lifting heavy furniture and boxes on a daily basis. Dave wasn't
the classiest of guys, and my first impression was that it might
be a challenge to keep him in line as we traveled.

Neil would be the youngest of the crew - 20 years old, he was
taking a year off from college to earn money for tuition and see
some of the country by doing long-distance moves. And this was
his first. Even though he was largely inexperienced, he was
obviously intelligent - a stereotypical image of someone almost
*too* intelligent to be involved in manual labor.

The last to arrive, Jeff, was the most seasoned of the bunch in
terms of the real world. At 38 years old, there was a cynical
humor in his demeanor that could provide some entertainment for
me in the driver's seat as we moved across the country.

It was a diverse group, and I was quick to set down a few ground
rules, the most important of which was, "Don't bug the driver
when he's behind the wheel." We would be going straight through
to the east coast, but at a relaxed pace. All three had been
trained and experienced in moving households, but this was the
first time they had been hired to do a cross-country move. It was
also the first time that each one was doing an overnighter, as
well as the first experience at traveling in a large tractor-
trailer with a condo sleeper. After all three arrived, I spent
the first hour orienting them to long-distance truck travel and
the features in the condo. I also acquainted them with a few of
the rules I had to follow, especially the drivers' hours-of-
service rules set by the U.S. Department of Transportation that
would dictate the pace we would go across the country.

We drove out to the house where we would be picking up the
freight, and while the three movers loaded the trailer I took the
opportunity to rest up for the trip by catching some sleep. I
took the lower bed on the left side of the sleeper, as it was
shielded best from light coming in through the front of the cab
and I was more comfortable sleeping on my right side. I was alive
with anticipation of the seven-day trip across the country, and
sleep didn't come easily. I also knew that it was the last time I
would have to spend alone for the next several days, so I enjoyed
a long stroking session while the others were loading the trailer
to get my rocks off and help me get to sleep.

It took about seven hours to load the truck. The cargo had to be
checked and logged on moving forms, then packed into the truck in
a manner that it would withstand the long trip. Load locks - bars
that extend from one side of the trailer to the other to hold
cargo in place - would have to be set up at occasional points to
hold furniture and boxes in place, and the inside of the trailer
would have to be loaded in a way that would maximize the space
efficiency.

It was early Thursday evening when we pulled out, stopping at a
shopping center off of I-90 to hit a supermarket and stock up on
coffee, sodas, snacks, and the other junk food that long-haul
drivers and movers tend to live on. Then we hit the road, heading
east on the interstate.

Two hours out of Seattle, we pulled into a Flying J truck stop at
Ellensburg to fuel up, weigh the load, and have dinner. After
hitting the buffet and salad bar, we got back on the truck and
I planned the routing for the trip while the guys took some time
to store their stuff. As Dave stashed his gear on a shelf in the
storage compartment, I saw a bottle of tequila in his bag and
knew that my hunch was right. He would be the one to watch out
for on this trip.

"Hey, Dave," I said. "Sorry, dude, but that's got to go."

"Awww, c'mon, man," he answered. "It's a long run, and I don't
want to get bored. Besides, you don't have to drink it if you're
driving."

"That's not the issue," I replied. "The D.O.T. says that it's
*my* ass in hot water if there's booze on board a commercial
vehicle that I'm driving. If you don't want to waste it, party
down before we hit the road." And that's what he did. Between
himself, Neil, and Jeff, they downed the entire bottle of tequila
before we left the Flying J parking lot and I watched him toss
the empty bottle into a trash can outside the truck. And I had no
complaint - at least the three of them would pass out and I'd
have some quiet time as we headed out of Washington state.

It was early Friday morning when we pulled into a truckstop in
Butte, Montana. I was hitting my federally allowed maximum of ten
hours of driving in a 24-hour period. The timing couldn't have
been better - dawn had approached, and the sun was beginning to
shine from the eastern sky directly into the truck. Dave, Neil,
and Jeff were coming out of their stupor, and I was in need of a
few hours sleep. I watched as they headed into the truckstop for
showers and breakfast, then headed back to the sleeper for some
rest.

I awoke just before noon and grabbed my own shower kit, then
headed into the truckstop to find the guys trying to out-perform
each other in the video arcade. Even Neil, who seemed out of
place in front of a Pacman machine, was trying his best to fit in
with the other guys and proved adept at holding his own. I headed
into a private shower room and, as I was standing under the hot
water and soaping myself up, decided that I may as well have some
fun on the road. As the driver, I was in somewhat of a position
of authority, since I dictated the rules of the road in the
tractor-trailer. And here I was, traveling with three hot-looking
guys who were supposedly straight. And since I usually drive
naked, I knew that I would get damn tired of having to wear
clothes across the entire country. "Fuck it," I said. "Life has
its risks, and getting some action from these guys could be an
interesting challenge."

I put on fresh clothes and joined the others for lunch. We'd head
out around 3:00 in the afternoon, which would leave a full day's
worth of driving before we would stop for the night in North
Dakota. We boarded the truck and I began to catch up on my
logbook, a federal requirement for commercial drivers. As I
filled in the log, the guys checked out some of the features in
the day condo.

"Oh, fuck!" I turned around to see that Dave had taken a
videotape from behind the combination TV/VCR unit. He asked,
"What the fuck is this, a fag tape?" I looked at the video in his
hands and read the words "hot gay action" on the cardboard box
that held the video he found, the words appearing under a picture
of two guys locked in a naked embrace next to a tractor-trailer.
It seems that John, my buddy in Seattle who owned the truck, was
into gay trucker porn and forgot to take the tape out after his
last run.

I was laughing my ass off. Neil blushed, as if it were the first
time he had been confronted with a gay tape. Jeff smugly shook
his head, smiled and said, "Hell, I guess it takes all kinds."

Dave saw the humor in the situation and laughed himself. Then he
said, "What the hell. I guess we have something interesting to
watch if things get *too* boring."

I finished my log, then pulled out of the truckstop as the guys
hung out in the back and got to know each other. A deck of cards
came out, and a poker game started that would keep them occupied
for a few hours as I drove the long, tedious miles through the
rest of Montana. We pulled off halfway through the day's drive at
a truckstop with a fast food restaurant, fueled the rig, and
bought sandwiches back on board to continue the run.

It was 1 A.M. morning when I pulled off the road into a rest area
on I-94 in North Dakota. The guys had gone to bed around
midnight, and after catching up on my log I headed back toward
the rear sleeper to do the same. "Fuck it," I thought, "at least
I'm gonna sleep comfortably tonight." I removed all of my clothes
and slid into my bunk, with sleep coming on rapidly.

I woke up about four in the morning and heard a stir in the condo
in front of the sleeper. The vinyl curtain between the two
compartments had been drawn, and I could hear a combination of
breathing and snoring coming from the other side of the sleeper.
I guessed that Dave, who had taken the bunk above mine, was out
in the condo, and I laid back for a few minutes enjoying the
relative quiet of the night. We had the air vents on each side of
the sleeper open, and the crisp night air was refreshing to wake
up to.

I heard a movement on the other side of the curtain, and got up
to stretch. Sliding the curtain open a crack to look out into the
condo, I saw Dave - sitting in a chair, buck ass naked, rock
hard, and stroking his cock while the gay video played on the
VCR. His hand was moving slowly and deliberately as his eyes
fixed upon the TV screen, as if it were the first time he had
seen hot action between guys. My own cock began to grow at the
sight and I knew that if there were any potential of getting it
on with Dave, it was when there was no chance for him to avoid
acknowledging that he had the same curiosity that most guys deny
to the hilt.

I slowly, quietly opened the drape, stepped through, and closed
the curtain behind me while the others continued to sleep.

By this time I was working my own hard cock at the sight of Dave
stroking his meat in front of the video. As he began to sense
that he was no longer alone, I put my hand on his shoulder and
quietly said, "Sssshhhhh." This would be the time for him and I
to get to know each other - the others would come later.

Dave was speechless. He was caught in the act and knew it. On the
TV, the video was showing two guys in a hot fuck scene in, of all
things, a tractor-trailer. Though the sound was turned down, the
gist of the film was obvious - it *was* hot gay action at its
best.

If there was one thing I knew about fuck scenes in gay videos,
it's that they generally followed a round of robust cocksucking.
The scene never opens on fucking, it leads up to it. And if Dave
had never sucked a cock before, he had obviously been watching
enough of the video that he had seen it done. As he continued to
slowly manipulate his meat, his glance moving between the video
and my hard cock, I gently pulled his face toward me and
whispered, "Do it, man. You know you want to try it."

Dave looked toward me and placed his hand around my cock, turning
away from the video as he began to slowly stroke my rod. I leaned
back and looked down at him as he was fondling both of our cocks
at once, and it took all of my effort to refrain from exploding
then and there, knowing that we were getting it on as the other
two guys slept in the back of the rig.

As he continued stroking me, I gently pulled his head forward and
quietly said, "Take it in your mouth. Go down on it, man." He
began to lick the head of my cock before apprehensively taking my
shaft into his mouth, continuing to hold my rod with his fist so
he wouldn't gag.

His increasingly bobbing head was bringing me closer to cumming,
but I didn't want the scene to end yet. I slowly pushed him away
and said, "Lean back." As he inclined in the chair, I got on my
knees and took his own ample rod into my mouth, gently working
his shaft with my tongue and licking his balls as I manipulated
his cock with enough care that he wouldn't shoot his own load
right away.

I took the gamble that the video Dave had been watching included
a 69 scene, and pulled him toward me as I backed down toward the
floor of the condo. He quietly moved out of the chair and joined
me on the floor, mouths to cocks, and we began the final scene of
sucking each other's meat at the same time. His own mouth
continued to ease up and he was able to take more of my shaft as
I rode my own mouth up and down his rod, both of us trying to
stifle making any noise that would wake up the others in the
back. Moving closer to orgasm, we wrapped our arms around each
other, by this time thrusting our cocks forward and grabbing each
other tightly as our loads began to explode into each other's
mouths.

After we took each other's loads, I took his hand and just held
it - a point of contact to reaffirm the closeness we had just
experienced. We sat up, looked at each other in silent
understanding, then stood and moved toward the front seats of the
cab, where we lit cigarettes and enjoyed the silence. After a few
minutes, we doused the cigarettes and, as we stood up to move
back to the sleeper I quietly said, "We'll talk tomorrow, man."
He nodded his understanding, and we want back to the sleeper and
to our own bunks.

Neil and Jeff woke up about 6 A.M. and went out to the condo
section of the tractor, where they made a pot of coffee. The
aroma woke me up shortly thereafter, and as I was putting on a
pair of shorts I heard Dave stir in the upper bunk. I went out
and got two cups of coffee, brought them back to the sleeper, and
Dave hopped down and sat next to me on my bunk. As he sipped his
coffee he quietly asked, "Do you think they know what happened
last night?"

"No," I answered, "they definitely slept through it."

A few moments passed. "Do you think they get into this kind of
shit?"

"No. I don't think they've gotten into it any more than you ever
did before last night."

If it was ever possible for Dave to blush, that was the comment
that did it. "Fuck. If you hadn't walked in on me like you did, I
doubt that I ever would have gotten it on with another guy. Until
I started watching that flick, I didn't even think about doing
fag shit. Hell, if you had tried getting me to do that and I
wasn't caught red-handed, I would have kicked the shit out of
you."

"Hey, man, life is full of surprises."

He quietly smiled and continued sipping his coffee. "Do you think
they would get into it at all?"

"Why don't we find out? If things get boring, you can always pop
that tape in while we're rolling." I watched him contemplate the
possibilities.

After doing my pre-trip inspection and updating my log, I rolled
the truck back onto I-90 before turning onto I-94 toward North
Dakota. The guys spent their time watching TV when we were in
areas where we could receive any stations at all, reading,
playing cards, and napping. Night had fallen by the time we
entered North Dakota, and enough boredom had set in that I heard
the suggestion that they could always watch the gay video and
crack a few jokes. But the suggestion didn't come from Dave, it
came from Jeff.

The hour-long video was accompanied by a mix of hoots, cheers,
jeers, laughter, and comments like, "Man, I can't believe this
fucking shit." When the video ended, Dave and Jeff went back to
the sleeper, and I could imagine Dave - as new to gay action as
he was - trying to get Jeff into a sex scene. The scenes in the
video were obviously new to Neil, the youngest of the bunch, and
he was still trying to take it all in as he came up to the front
of the cab and took the passenger seat to my right. Yet out of
the side of my eye, I couldn't help but notice a prominent bulge
in his jeans as he moved forward in the dark - a bulge that
suggested that his own cock was hard.

We made small talk for a while, then the conversation turned to
the video he had just laughed his way through. "Hey, man, does
that kind of stuff really happen to truckers?"

"I'm not sure what you mean," I said, not having seen the video.
"What was it about anyway?"

"It was some story about a truck driver who runs around the
country and picks up guys to fuck whenever he stops."

"I've never met anyone like that," I said, thinking about the
frequency the driver in the video must have kept up. Hell, I
thought, you *can* get too much of a good thing. "Look," I said,
if we run into a situation where guys are looking for truckers,
I'll point it out to you." I knew, of course, that we were bound
to do just that on the way back east.

It was Saturday when we left North Dakota and pulled into
Minnesota We had made excellent time thus far and decided to take
a few hours off and hang out. I was ready for some sleep when we
stopped, and as Dave and Jeff came out of the sleeper cab I
caught a subtle nod and a wink from Dave. It was obvious that he
and Jeff had a good time of their own while Neil and I were
riding up front. Of course, that left Neil as the only
uninitiated one in the group, but I felt that if given the
opportunity he could get into a hot scene as quickly as the
others had.

As dusk began to fall, we headed out and pulled into a rest stop
in eastern Minnesota around 10 P.M. Since it was a Saturday
night, there were only two other trucks in the rest area, so we
were able to park far away from any other vehicles. It was late
enough, however, that there were several cars parked, and I knew
that at least one of them would hold someone who was looking for
trucker action.

Dave and Jeff were playing cards at the table back in the condo,
and Neil had joined me in the front of the cab. As the cool night
air came into the darkened cab, I spied someone getting out of a
pick-up truck in the car parking area and saunter around a tree
where he could look over into our cab.

"Remember," I asked Neil, "that I told you I'd point out when
someone was cruising the truck? Well, check out the dude by that
tree there."

"How do you know that he's cruising?" Neil asked.

The answer, of course, was "gaydar."  But I didn't think Neil was
ready to understand that notion, so I replied, "Don't ask. I just
know."

Dave and Jeff caught our conversation, and the condo behind us
became silent. "Hey, guys," I called into them, "you think you're
ready for a live replay of the video?"

I can only imagine their looks from the momentary silence I heard
before Jeff replied, "Sure, what the hell."

"Hit the lights off," I said. "Neil, go back with the other guys
and watch."

As Neil joined the others, I stripped down and threw the t-shirt
and shorts I was wearing to the back of the cab. I turned on the
red light over the driver's seat, placed my log book in the
compartment above the dashboard, lit a cigarette, and leaned
back. Sure enough, a few minutes later, the guy who had left the
pick-up truck wandered over to my truck door and asked, "How's it
going?"

"Not bad," I answered. "Tired and horny, but other than that, not
bad."

"I can't do much about being tired, but I may be able to help you
out with the horny part," he said.

Introducing himself as Wayne, he was wearing loose jeans and a
sweatshirt - an outfit that would be easy to take off if he found
the scene he was looking for. He was clearly used to servicing
truck drivers, so I said, "I'll take you up on that, but I'm not
alone. Are you into more than one at a time?" I didn't bother
telling him that there were actually three guys sitting in the
condo behind me, and I was betting that Dave, Neil, and Jeff were
getting as horny as I was.

"Sure," said Wayne, "I wouldn't mind some extra action."

"C'mon in, dude." I opened the driver's door and stepped aside as
Wayne climbed the steps into the cab. "You can start right here,"
I said, standing against the passenger seat as I guided his head
toward my waiting cock.

"Lose the clothes," I said as Wayne began to suck my hard cock.
As he bent over he dropped his jeans, pulling them off with one
hand, while I pulled the sweatshirt over his head so that we were
both naked. As he continued to go down on my rod, I quietly
opened the curtain between the driver's area and the condo. Wayne
still couldn't see that there were three other guys watching us,
and Dave - with whom I had already had an encounter - was the
first to step forward with his own cock extending out of his
jeans. "Go down on my buddy here," I said to Wayne, pulling back
into the condo area myself.

As I shielded Neil and Jeff from Wayne's view, they quietly
stripped out of their own clothes, their cocks already sprung to
attention. Dave, whose own cock was being worked by Wayne, pulled
his shirt off to reveal his hard muscled body in the shadows in
front of us. In the meantime, I was already reaching for the
condoms and lube that were stashed in my bag - I knew we would be
getting a lot of use out of them for the rest of the trip.

I heard Dave's breathing get heavier in the front of the cab as
he was expertly worked with Wayne's famished mouth. "Oh fuck,"
Dave cried out, "I'm gonna shoot!" He pulled Wayne's mouth
further down on his shaft as a hot load of jism began to nourish
Wayne's throat, Dave's hot sweat permeating the air in the cab.

As Wayne removed his lips from the head of Dave's cock, I moved
forward and led Wayne back to the rear sleeper cab, where Neil
and Jeff were ready for some action of their own. "C'mon, man," I
have a couple more buddies you can take care of."

Jeff stood up and fed his cock into Wayne's mouth, while Neil
reclined on one of the bunks and slowly stroked his meat at the
sight of what was going on in front of him. As Wayne bent over to
take Jeff into his hungry mouth, I began to massage his ass with
one hand while I reached for a condom and some lube with the
other.

As he continued to go down on Jeff, I placed my own hard cock
against the crack of Wayne's lubed-up ass and felt him begin to
push back against my waiting meat. I entered slowly, holding his
buttcheeks so he would have the leverage to continue working on
Jeff's rod, and began to ride his ass with more force in each
successive thrust. I could feel my own load ready to explode by
this point, but was able to hold off until Jeff's increasingly
heavy breathing told me that he was ready to fill Wayne's mouth
with a load of his own. As we shot our loads together, Neil was
still stroking his cock in awe of the scene in front of him.

I gently pulled out of Wayne's ass, and as he began to stand up
from his bent-over position I said, "No. Stay right there." I
motioned for Neil to get up from the bed and guided him to stand
behind Wayne. With one hand on Neil's shoulder, I placed a condom
on his hard cock with my other hand, then guided him into Wayne's
hungry ass, which was already well lubricated from the ramming he
took from my own cock.

Wayne cried out as Neil began to thrust his rod into Wayne's ass
with a force that suggested the enormity of the load he was
preparing to shoot. I stood behind Neil, bracing him as he
pounded into Wayne, and by this time Dave was standing by, ready
for a second round of butt-fucking action. I could feel Neil's
entire body tense as he prepared to cum in Wayne's tight ass as I
whispered into his ear, "Do it, man. Fill his tight ass with your
hot load." Neil cried out as his cock exploded in Wayne's butt,
then he fell back against my body bracing him in the now-steaming
sleeper cab.

Wayne fell forward onto the bunk as Neil and I pulled away, only
to have his ass filled once again by Dave's now stiff rod. Dave
had watched the other three of us get off, and began to
mercilessly ram Wayne's well-worked asshole. Wayne rose onto his
knees as Dave, behind him, continued to pound into his sore ass.
As Wayne thrust his ass backward to take Dave's cock he was
furiously stroking his own meat, knowing that the rest of us were
taking in every move. As sweat poured from both of them, Wayne
cried out, "I'm gonna cum, guys!"

"Me too!" shouted Dave, as their cocks burst with their loads at
the same time.

Wayne dressed and headed out into the brisk Minnesota night. As
he left he said, "Thanks, guys. That was the hottest action I've
ever seen on a truck, and I'll be jerking off to this one for
weeks."

After he left, the four of us looked at each other with one thing
on our minds: sleep. We opened the windows at he front of the cab
and the vents in the sleeper to clear the sleeper of the hot man
sweat that pervaded the air, and then we all fell asleep on the
bottom bunks - Dave and me on the left side of the sleeper, and
Neil and Jeff across from us.

When morning came, we headed down the road a few miles to a
truckstop off I-94, where we grabbed showers and had some
breakfast. As we boarded the truck to continue the run, I said to
them, "Well, guys, I'll be busy driving. If you get bored, do you
think you can find something to keep you occupied?" We all
laughed as I pulled back onto the highway and headed east toward
Wisconsin. Needless to say, by this time we all knew each other
well enough that I was back in my usual driving uniform - naked.

We continued the journey, crossing over into Ohio early Tuesday
evening. The sucking and fucking had continued across the
midwest, and by the time we hit Ohio we were all in need of a
shower. We figured that by the time we all stopped and paid for
showers at a truckstop it almost pay for the cost of a motel
room, so we pulled off the Ohio Turnpike at Exit 3 where I was
able to park the truck next to a small motel, then I went in an
got a room with a king-size bed. We had slept over the past few
days in various combinations, and it would be nice to have a
large bed that would fit the four of us comfortably.

We showered, we ate, we caught some TV . . . Dave even managed to
pick up a case of beer so the guys could down a few while they
were off the truck. I could tell you that it was a hot, long
night of raw, raunchy sex, but the reality was that we were
comfortable enough with each other that it wasn't the top
priority at that point. Well, except for a guy named Paul.

Paul was staying at the same motel about four rooms down from us,
and as we were attacking a couple of pizzas that Dave had brought
back with the beer, Paul passed by the open window of our room
and subtly glanced in. Jeff and I were on the bed, Neil and Dave
were sitting on chairs, and more than one of us already had
removed our shirts. A few minutes later Paul wandered by again.
And about ten minutes after that, again. And each time he passed
the room, he would discreetly try to get a glimpse of the four of
use hanging around.

When he passed by the fourth time, Jeff opened the door to our
room and said, "Is there something you're looking for, dude?"

Paul stammered and said that he was just out for a walk, and Jeff
looked him straight in the eyes and said, "Look. You've got four
horny guys right here who are ready to give your ass some hot
action. Is that what you're looking for?"

Paul's face flushed as he caught his breath at Jeff's direct
approach. Then he overcame his hesitation and said, "Yes." And we
were happy to accommodate him. Twice. Each. And sent him happily
along his way as the four of us crawled into the king-size bed
together for a good night's sleep.

In the morning, we headed out across Ohio and into Pennsylvania,
picking up I-70 east toward Baltimore, and pulling into a
truckstop in Frederick, Maryland, for our final night on the road
together. The only thing we hadn't done thus far is ram each
other's asses, but that was taken care of on that final night in
Frederick as the sleeper cab filled with our sweat once again. In
various combinations, we had proven to be a four-man team, both
on and off the road.

After showering in the morning, we drove the short remainder of
the run into suburban Washington, where I caught up on sleep from
the drive while the others unloaded the truck. I dropped them at
a nearby Metro station, where they would head into the city to
Union Station and return to Seattle by train.

Except for Dave. He accompanied me back to Philadelphia, where we
spent a few days at my place before John, the owner of the truck,
flew in to drive the rig back west. As I introduced John and
Dave, they seemed to hit it off as good as the rest of us had,
and we got to know each other better as a group of three before I
watched them hit the road, heading toward the Pennsylvania
Turnpike.

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