Thursday, July 12, 2012

Trucker Fucker 3 by Barry Lowe

All of Barry's stories are 24% off from during July to celebrate his 24 months with them.

If you can’t beat ’em, change ’em.
They made a bet now Jez doesn’t know if he has the willpower to withstand the appeal of Atom’s succulent ass that he flaunts at every opportunity. It’s become so bad Jez is dreaming of that moist puckered hole, beating off with the image in his head. Jez needs a hetero fix and needs it fast. Opportunity presents itself in the shape of a sexy waitress at their truck-stop who makes it obvious she’s hot for both men. With a little luck, maybe Jez can change Atom’s sexual orientation and get him off his back.

Okay, I guess it was my fault though there was no way I was gonna fess up.  Atom and I had been sniping at each other since we left the police station where we’d spent the night, him on his back or his knees while I tossed and turned for a few restless hours attempting to watch or else catch up on sleep – a difficult proposition when you’re in police custody.
“You did just call me a degraded little fag, right?”
Yeah, I had. I meant it, too, but right now probably wasn’t a good time to voice my opinion. I backtracked. “That was probably a bit harsh.”
“A bit?”
“A lot harsh then. Happy?”
“Geez Jez, you just called me names and you’re asking if I’m happy? Perhaps a few lessons in tact at night school wouldn’t go astray.”
I was doing my best to make amends, what the fuck did he want? Ungrateful slut. “You want tact and understanding, go get it from your rich fag mates. I’m sure they’ll treat you better than I do.”
As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I wanted to swallow them.
Atom looked over at me and I saw the glint of moisture in the corner of his eyes. “Thanks, Jez. At least I know where I stand. I thought we were making progress. I guess I was mistaken.”
No shouting, no drama queen antics, just a quiet reply that hit home more powerfully than a fist to the solar plexus. He indicated our heated argument was over by turning away from me, wrapping his arms around himself as we walked, successfully closing himself off. 
Good, it would give me a chance to get my head in order, something I hadn’t had a chance to do since Atom came on board my rig. The kid was a fuckin’ menace. I ground my teeth as I remembered the scrapes he got me in, then smiled when I flashed back to the blow job I got as a reward. I guess he paid his way in the only manner he knew how. He was a good kid at heart.
I’d started it when I told him what I thought of his behavior with the cops.
“Look at you, covered in fuckin’ spunk. I bet it’s dribbling out your ass as well. And your breath smells like some old whore’s cunt after a night on her back in an alley.”
“Charming,” was all Atom said.
I don’t know why I didn’t just shut up at that point. There was something wrong with me and I couldn’t get my head around it. He’d been gangbanged by the cops most of the night and I’d been repulsed by what he had allowed and done without putting up any sort of a fight. I did admit that it wouldn’t have made a difference, the bastards still would have taken his ass and probably done him considerable damage into the bargain. I understood, but part of my brain didn’t want to acknowledge that even while another part was grateful and another part was totally turned on watching the episode. The moralistic streak was winning and I couldn’t shut it down...  

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