THE TRUCKER AND THE BIKERS
--------------------------
Uploaded to Pink Triangle by Simon Jones
I'd just gotten out of college and wanted to bum around the coun-
try for a while before I settled down to work; my parents weren't
pleased, but as I'd been independent of them for some time now, there
wasn't much they could do about it. I set out hitchhiking along, get-
ting most of my rides from truckers ... and paying for them with
blowjobs, or occasionally with the more open men, a fast hot fuck in a
sleeper cab, or occasionally in the shadow of the truck.
The one thing that did kind of bother me was that the sex usually
meant the end of the ride, since even the truckers who were open when
they were horny couldn't look me in the eye after I'd gotten them off
.. especially if they'd gotten ME off. So, I was hanging out in the
truckstop where my last ride had left me; if I bothered to pay atten-
tion, I could still taste his creamy, sweet load in the back of my
throat. So I sat there, cruising the truckers, trying to find one at-
tractive enough that I might actually enjoy going down on him for my
ride. I finally gave up and decided to try my luck near the entrance
to the freeway. I was hardly out the door when I heard "Hey, need a
ride?"
"Sure do. You headed east?"
"That I am. Haulin' all the way to DC, in fact."
"Perfect!" I said as I swung on up; DC was my first destination on
the East Coast. If I got lucky and this trucker didn't want to dump me
after a hundred miles or so, I might get all the way there in one long
boost. I hadn't been able to see the guy, but since it was getting
late, I realized I couldn't be *too* choosy. Fortunately, Lady Luck
smiled on me at that point. What filled my eyes at that point was the
kind of trucker that most men dream of when they jerk off to hot
trucker fantasies. Thick, neatly trimmed beard with a big overhanging
moustache, and a bare chest carpeted thickly in curly fur. Worn boots
and a pair of well-worn and slightly grimy 501's, which showed a nice
big lump in his crotch.
What filled my nose was the warm, sweet musk of a sweaty man; I
could see the little jewel drops of sweat in his beard and chest fur,
and the little rivulets down his side from his furry armpits. "Hope
you don't mind me sweatin' like this, but this ol' rig doesn't have
airco."
"Doesn't bother me a bit; anyone who gets freaked out over a lit-
tle honest sweat seems kinda weird to me."
"Well, alright! What's yer name and how far are you goin'? I'm
Jon."
"I'm Dave, and as a matter of fact, my target's DC; if you don't
mind having me around that long, it would really help if I can ride
all the way in with you."
"I've got no problem with that; in fact it would be nice to have
some company on the drive. One of the reasons I pick up hitchers is to
have someone to talk to." I noted the bit about "one reason" quickly.
He continued "But, it looks to me like you might have some problems
with the trip."
"What do you mean?" He grinned. "That big fuckin' hardon you got
in your pants the minute you saw me; somehow I doubt we'll get to DC
without you wanting to play with me; and bro, that's just fine with
me!" His big hand slid across the seat to squeeze my leg, then trav-
elled up my leg to rub my dick. "Damn, that's as big as it looks. Hope
you weren't plannin' on porkin' my butt, cause I don't swing that way.
But I do love fuckin' ass, and I don't mind suckin' you off after."
"Sounds like heaven to me. I love getting plowed in a sleeper by a
hot truckerstud ... the sex is one reason I'm travelling this way. "We
looked at each other and smiled.
"Shit, I've got to piss ... the damn coffee at that truckstop has
gone right through me."
"No need to stop; I can take care of that for you."
He gave me a half-knowing, half-surprised grin. "You do that??"
By way of response I started popping the buttons of his fly open,
and extracted his meat. Even soft, it was thick and long, with a heavy
foreskin and the smell of fresh headcheese about it. I rested my head
in his warm lap and placed just the head gently between my lips. "Ohh
fuck, you are serious ... well, if that's your scene. Here it comes
.. "I suspected this wasn't the first time he'd had someone drink his
piss while he drove, since he kept up a strong and steady but reason-
able flow; I was easily able to drink it all down without spilling any
into his seat or onto his pants. He finished, and I neatly tucked him
back in his pants, and fastened enough of the buttons for him to be
"decent" when he got out.
"Thanks, buddy" he said with a grin. "I think we're gonna have one
hell of a nice trip to DC!"
His prediction was 100% accurate; from the fuss I made over his
sweaty bod, he clearly figured out that I was into raunch, and so the
entire time I was with him, he never bathed; why should he, when he
had my tongue available to clean him up instead? That cock I had seen
soft turned into a nine inch and *thick* ass rammer when he got turned
on ... and the easiest way to turn him on and get him horny beyond
words was to settle his sweaty ass crack onto my bearded face and give
his puckerhole a long, wet and deep tongue lashing. When he could no
longer stand it, he'd throw me onto my hands and knees, dive between
my buns with his tongue to open me up, then ram that tool home in one
hard thrust.
It did hurt the first couple of times, but considering that he was
fucking me at least three times a day (right before each meal), I
rapidly got used to the size of his dick and the energy of his attack.
I ALSO got an ass full of his hot truckercum that tended to leak out
and run down the back of my legs ... but I rather enjoyed the sensa-
tion. True to his word, after every fuck he'd ask if I needed to get
off. If I did, he'd dive down my sweaty bod to my dick, and start rub-
bing it through his beard; it looked rather bristly, but it turned out
to have an unearthy satiny plush feeling that drove me wild.
He wasn't the greatest cocksucker in the world, but after a good
long tease with that beautiful beard, all it took was the sensation of
a wet mouth and tongue on my dickhead for me to pump his mouthful of
my cream. He'd bring it up to my face in his mouth, and slowly pass it
to me as we kissed, and I'd drink it down except for the very last
gulp, which he would swallow himself. At least that was the basic pat-
tern, to which got added all sorts of little embellishments, what with
me cleaning out under his foreskin with my tongue, and occasionally
getting him to fuck my throat instead of my ass.
His beautiful, well-muscled and well-furred body writhed at the
touch of my tongue in his armpits, behind his ears, around his balls
and in his ass. And of course, there was the fact that he never had to
stop to pee, which improved the time he made and left us more time to
fuck. In a way, I was dreading getting to DC; I hadn't asked him about
his background or what he'd be doing after he unloaded in DC. More
likely than not, we'd have to part company there, and I didn't know if
he'd want to stay in touch.
I was enjoying myself - and him - too much to just let him "drive
into the sunset" without at least trying to stay in some kind of con-
tact. I was planning on bringing up the subject of the end of our
journey the next morning, after he fucked me, since he was usually
rather cuddly and playful at that point, and I figured would take the
question best then. We'd had dinner - and a fuck - several hours be-
fore, but he decided that he was horny again and wanted to fuck yet
again before we went to sleep. I needed to piss, so he wandered off to
stretch his legs while I was busy in the can. I had noticed a big
batch of Harleys at the entrance end of the RA, but since most of the
bikers - even of the "outlaw" persuasion - that I knew were cool peo-
ple who simply wanted to be left alone to pursue their own lifestyle,
I didn't think to warn him. When I came out, I saw him surrounded by
leather-clad bikers near one of the more elaborately tricked-out
Hawgs.
I knew even before I hustled over what the problem was; I'd for-
gotten to tell my trucker that where a biker's ride is concerned, it's
strictly "look but don't touch" without permission. One thing I noted
quickly was that there were no women with the bikers; if they were
straight, that would be so rare as to be totally unheard of, so I was
betting they were a gay club; when I got close enough to see their
colours, I was sure of it. I slipped through the press of leather-clad
bodies so I was standing behind Jon. "What's the problem?" The biggest
biker of the lot looked me up and down a bit and said "Your buddy here
was messin' with my ride. I don't LIKE that."
"Jon, what did you do?"
He looked rather frightened and defiant all at the same time. "All
I did was have my hand on the seat for balance when I bent down to
look at the engine."
"That's enough," I sighed. "If you're interested enough in bikes
to be curious about the engine, how did you manage to avoid learning
that you don't so much as touch someone else's ride without permis-
sion?"
"Huh? I've never seen big custom bikes like this before, and I
wanted a better look. I didn't mean any harm!"
"Don't make no difference; you was messin' with my ride ... but
I'll tell ya what. Since you say you didn't know the rule, and your
buddy here talks like a brother..."
"Road Rats MC, Los Angeles" (only an associate member, but HE
didn't need to know that...)" ... we'll let you off easy." I noticed
most of the club start to grin, and a number started rubbing their
crotches; the dude who's bike Jon had touched (whose name patch bore
the name "Poke") started to get a very obvious - and very LARGE -
hardon down his greasy left pants leg. "What does THAT mean??" Jon
whispered to me. "Given the indications, probably a good old-fashioned
biker gang fuck." At that, Poke grinned at me and nodded. "These dudes
look horny, not vicious."
"But I told you when we met! I don't get fucked, and this Poke
dude looks like he's hung like an elephant - he'd kill me!"
"Naw, I'll be careful, and I'll let all the other bros take their
turns first to get ya opened up good." Poke stood there grinning and
rubbing the still-lengthening shaft pushing down the leg of his 501's.
Jon looked at me with a certain amount of desperation in his eye,
which was suddenly replaced with relief. I nodded at him to go on.
"Shit ... wait a minute. My buddy here, he LIKES gettin' fucked; I've
been puttin' it to him three, four times a day. What say you take him
instead?"
"Can't take a bro in exchange unless he agrees to it. You willing
to take on this whole fuckin' club to save your pal's virgin butt?" I
looked around and thought for a moment. I was surrounded by some in-
credibly hot examples of sleazy bikerdom; to a man they were long
haired and bearded, leathered and dirty. "Yeah, I'll take his place,
and gladly. But I want him there with me, so he knows what he would
have gotten."
"Agreed! Let's haul it back to the clubhouse." Jon locked up the
rig, and we mounted up behind two of the bikers. A surprisingly short
time later, we pulled up in front of their clubhouse. A garage door
was opened, and all the bikes roared inside; the door was shut. With a
blur of greasy hands, my shirt was ripped off, my pants shoved down
around my ankles, and I was thrown over a partially disassembled bike
in a brace, and lashed down. "Two reasons for that bike; one, it's
braced so the hard thumpin' you're gonna get don't knock it over, and
two, we don't want ya gettin' any burns from a hot engine. Now, we got
all kinds of good shit on hand; you want somethin' to fuckya up durin'
this??"
"No, man; just give me a full inhaler of amyl and I'll be fine."
"You got it dude, but if you change your mind, just ask ... if
your mouth ain't full!" By this time, all the bikers had either doffed
their greasy pants, or at least pulled their cocks and balls out the
fly. As one of the younger bikers with a short-trimmed black beard
moved in behind me, they put Jon on his back underneath me, so he'd
have a perfect view of all the cocks that would be going up my ass. I
was surprised as all hell when instead of feeling a hard cock ramming
up my ass (after all, Jon had bragged about putting it to me so often
he didn't need lube any more), I felt a long, hot tongue snake up my
hole, accompanied with the sensation of a bristly beard rubbing
against my buns and the back of my balls. I was already hard just
thinking about the prospects, but that started my cock dripping. I
could see that the bikers had positioned Jon well; the drops of my
precum were hitting him right on the chin. So smoothly I hardly no-
ticed it at first, the tongue was replaced by the young biker's cock;
as he started thrusting, I let out a low moan of pleasure. "Hey bro,
how'd the fuckers butt taste?"
"REAL good; that trucker's got real sweet, tasty cum, and there's
a hell of a lot of it in there!"
"There'll be even more when we're done!" The fuckstrokes rapidly
became fast and hard, and I felt the warmth as the biker's cum shot
into my ass. Another cock replaced the first man's, picking up the
fast, hard rhythm hardly missing a stroke. It didn't take me long to
figure out I was getting "grudge fucked"; very little consideration
for my comfort, if any; just being used as a convenient hole to get
off in. The only reason I was taking it as well as I was was all the
practice I'd had recently. Jon was right after all - he would have
wound up getting his butt ripped up by these guys. My mouth wasn't
idle for long; it soon acquired the jobs of cleaning out cheesy fore-
skins, rimming out dirty, sweaty assholes, sucking clean a long line
of funky armpits, and grooming sweat-matted beards - not to mention
drinking bladderfuls of hot beer piss. After about two thirds of the
bikers had plowed my butt, there was so much cum in my ass that when a
biker finished his fuck, he'd come around front for me to clean off
the cum that the pounding of his fucking had splattered all over his
pubes and balls. Finally, all the bikers except Poke had rammed me and
hopped off. Poke stood in front of me, stroking that huge horsedick of
his, slowly slipping the long foreskin back and forth over the head in
an almost hypnotic rhythm. "You're fuckin' well named, you know that,
bro?"
"Yeah; you'd be surprised how good this dick is to me. Makes me
lots of bread from bored chicks married to straight citizens with
teeny weenies. The pay from the porno flicks isn't bad either."
"You should model for the gay skin rags; they'd go crazy over
you."
"They did. The first layout's comin' out next month."
"I won't miss that!"
"Damn right, 'cause I'm gonna give you good reason to remember me
right now. You got your inhaler?"
"Yah."
"Good, you're gonna need it!!" With that, he moved behind me. The
preceding dialogue may seem a little strange, but not if you'd seen
Poke's cock. (Poke, by the way, is biker slang for cock, and anyone
nicknamed that is usually horse hung.) It was good and long, about
eleven inches worth. That alone was enough to make it exceptional, but
then there was the thickness of the damn thing. A good two inches
across at the head, it got THICKER the further down you went, until at
the base the damn thing was about twice as wide as at the head. And,
unlike a lot of huge dicks, it was iron-hard and standing up at about
a 45 degree angle from his belly. The head of his monster dick slid
fairly easily into my butt, and he started a slow stroke that allowed
me to take the whole thing in an unbelievably short time. He leaned
forward and whispered into my ear "You got it all, fucker ... you
ready?"
"Fuck, yes. Give it to me good, stud, put on a show!" With that,
he started the same sort of fast, slamming fuck rhythm that the others
had used; I felt like I was riding to heaven on a telephone pole. I
could feel his foreskin slipping back and forth, back and forth over
the head of his dick as he plowed hard and fast. Finally, he slammed
into me as far as he would go, holding me impaled on his cock with his
hands on my shoulders, and pumped me full of his steaming jizz. His
head dropped back and he let out an animalistic howl, which coincided
with me blasting out the biggest wad of my life all over Jon's face.
Poke collapsed onto my back, and total silence reigned while all of us
recovered. After a long moment, Poke gently removed his softened, but
still engorged cock from my ass. "Get up here, fuckface" he roared to
Jon, whose beard was coated and soaked through with my cum.
"Clean off this dick your buddy took so you wouldn't get yer pansy
ass ripped up!" While Jon eagerly lapped the cum off of Poke's cock
and crotch, a couple of the others quickly untied me and carried me
bodily over to a sofa, where they laid me down, and where I immedi-
ately dropped off into a dreamless sleep. I awoke with a start in the
sleeper cab of Jon's truck. "'Bout time you woke up! Of course, with
what you went through, I'm not surprised you slept so long."
"What happened after I fell asleep?" Jon grinned sheepishly. "I
finished cleanin' off that Poke dude's cock, then came all over his
face when another guy started rimmin' me out. They brought me back to
the truck, and I brought it to their clubhouse to pick you up. Oh
yeah, they asked me to give you this." Jon handed me a bulky manila
envelope. Inside was a full set of member's patches to their club,
along with a short note: "If you don't hold a grudge against us, we'd
be proud to call a man with your balls Brother. Poke."
"Hot damn, they made me a member!"
"Yeah..." There was an uncomfortable pause.
"Are you mad at me? I mean, those dudes were rough on you, and I'm
the cause... I wouldn't blame you if you hated my guts." I slipped out
of the sleeper into the passenger seat. Jon had the piss-can in front
of him and was pulling out his cock for a piss as he spoke.
I dove down and took his cock in my mouth, and was rewarded with a
mouthful of sweet clear piss. "Guess you ain't pissed ... or maybe you
are!" he said with a grin. "Shit no. Yeah, they were rough, but it was
a hot turnon; I'm really into bikers. Besides, gettin' your ramrod up
the ol' dirt road three and more times a day was the best training I
could ever have gotten. In fact, I'm rather glad it happened."
"Then maybe you'd like to spend my two weeks layover here in DC
with me?"
"Damn right I would! I can take two weeks out of my travelling for
a hot fucker like you!"
"Oh, and did I tell you that my next route's gonna be up 'n down
the east coast?"
"No, you didn't ... are you saying what I think you're saying?"
"Guess so. I'd like to have you with me 'long as I can ... and
maybe when you're done with your travelling, you'll come back every so
often."
"Count on it, Jon, count on it. Say, why don't you pull off into
the rest area and gimme something to suck on?"