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Message-ID: <34679asstr$1010887802@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: billyboiiiiiii@yahoo.com (bill johnson)
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NNTP-Posting-Date: 12 Jan 2002 23:09:16 GMT
Subject: {ASSM} For Pebble, my British Friend, Adventures on I 70 (m/m)
Date: Sat, 12 Jan 2002 21:10:02 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

I was driving in a company car along Interstate 70. My destination was
Peoria, Illinois. Documents had to be hand delivered to an executive
of the United Auto Workers Union. Their arrival had to be witnessed
and a response document had to be notarized and delivered back to the
company. The prompt delivery of these documents had multi-million
dollar implications for the company. Before the tragedy they were
handled through the airlines, but more stringent security measures
caused delays that cost the company too much lost business revenue. A
new policy was made stating that all deliveries east of the
Mississippi were to be delivered over the highways.

This run was a frequent run of mine. I usually made this trip two or
three times a month. Leaving Baltimore early in the morning, I would
stay over in a motel just off  I -70 west of Indianapolis, and proceed
on to Peoria the next morning, arriving there before lunch. Then I
would return, stay over in Columbus, Ohio, and arrive home before
5:00. The entire round trip took three days.

I began this run the morning after another huge argument with my wife.
My marriage of three years was not good . The only time we talked was
when we were arguing, and the rest of the time silence filled our
apartment. I was glad to make these out of town trips just to escape
the misery. It looked like it was now just a matter of time before it
would be over.

We no longer had intimate times together. The last time was three
months before, when we felt obligated because it was our third
anniversary. As usual it ended with an argument and a night of
silence. I found myself missing the exploits of my younger days.

Listen to me, younger days! Twenty six years old, in the prime of my
life, talking like I  an old man. The bad marriage aged me beyond my
years. The only sexual relief I was getting anymore was masturbating
to the adult movies that I ordered in the motels on these runs.

I missed those younger days.  At 15 I was "knee deep in pussy", as
they say. I had many girls in high school and college, always
sharpening my Playboy skills. It continued in college, which was even
more wild than high school. In my senior year, though, I was "swept
off my feet" and "fell in love" with a coed. You guessed it. She is
the one I married.

I had some experiences with guys, too. I  started off experimenting at
adolescence, learning from and teaching other boys in the neighborhood
and at scout campouts the finer side of mutual nakedness. Things like
strip poker games that ended with semen shooting everywhere. I had
three different male partners through high school, and one of them
went to the same college as I did. We usually just masturbated
together, or jacked each other off. If we were drunk or stoned enough
we would do some oral, and we tried anal one time. He lived three
floors below me in the dorm, and we would usually get together when
neither of us had a chick to fuck.

After I got married, I renounced the gay activities. I had not been
with a guy since.

That day, as I left the Wheeling tunnel in the West Virginia
panhandle, I dialed up a talk radio station. The topic was the gay
lifestyle, and it got me thinking. I turned off the radio and realized
that some of the hottest sex I had was with the guys. I loved pussy,
don't get me wrong, but I was a no-strings-attached kind of guy. Most
of the ladies always came with strings. I just wanted to enjoy the
recreation of the sex and go my way. (The one I married didn't come
with a string. She came with a hangman's noose.)

The guys thought more like I did. You know, "Let's get the show on the
road, get our rocks off together, and go our separate ways. Fuck the
feelings and the `What are you thinking?' questions." We would roll
in, do the thing, and roll on out. No strings.

 I began thinking back to my college friend. We always had hot times
together. As I was thinking about him, my own cock was beginning to
respond in my pants. I found myself craving a hot time with a guy. I
almost pulled over in a rest area to jack off, because the rush of
excitement overwhelmed me. I was tired of masturbating, though, so I
kept on driving.

At Columbus there was a truck stop that had great food. I always
stopped there for dinner on this run. When I parked, I saw this guy
with a backpack. He was holding a sign that said "Omaha". He was
blonde, about my age, and clean. Most hitch hikers aren't.

At Columbus there was a truck stop that had great food. I always
stopped there for dinner on this run. When I parked, I saw this guy
with a backpack. He was holding a sign that said "Omaha". He was
blonde, about my age, and clean. Most hitch hikers aren't.

I never knew a stranger. I said, "Omaha?"

"Yeah. I have a job waiting for me there, as soon as I can get there."

"You are welcome to ride along with me.  I am going as far as
Indianapolis tonight. I am really not allowed riders, but what the
company doesn`t know won`t hurt `em."

"Hey, thanks, guy. I would appreciate it."

"Would you like to join me for dinner?"

"That would be great. Thanks."

We ordered, and ate quietly. When the check came to the table, he took
out his wallet. I spoke up.

"I'll get it. It's on the company. I never go over my meal allowance.
It's no problem."

"Thanks." 

We got in the car and began our trip west. There was silence for about
15 minutes, and I broke it. "Got any family?"

"No, just my mom in California."

"Where did you begin your trip?"

"Philly."

"Any girlfriends there?"

"Fuck `em all."

I was surprised at the anger in his tone. He went on to explain.
"That's the reason I am in this mess. I met this girl, and she made
all of the right moves. Within two months we were standing in front of
a Justice of the Peace. I am a fucking fool, that's what I am. I came
home the day before yesterday just to find the locks changed on the
door to my apartment. She emptied out my bank account and took
everything I had. I went to the cops so I get my shit, and they told
me that all of that had to be settled in court. All they were able to
do was help me get this backpack and some clothes. All of my other
shit is there, and I don't have the money to get a lawyer to fight for
it, because the fuckin' bitch took it all."

Yikes. What an awful story. "How long were you married?"

"I am a fucking fool, I already told you. Just six weeks. I was
scammed."

"Shit, man, you sure were. Hey, sorry to hear it."

"It ain't worth a court battle. By the time I waited for a trial date
and paid a fortune to lawyers, it wouldn't be worth it. I told her to
keep it all, Bitch. That's what I said. I called an old college buddy
of mine in Omaha that got hooked up with a good company there, and he
said I could stay with him. He knows of an opening at his company that
I fit well, so I am going there to start over. That's where I am now."

I was amazed. "Man, what a total bitch."

"Yeah, I am ready to swear off pussy for good."

"Yeah, I know what you mean, man, I know what you mean."

Holding the wheel with my left hand, I extended my right. "I forgot to
introduce myself. Kevin Oberling."

He shook it. "Jim Worsher, nice to meet you." He did not let go of my
hand. After a lengthy slow handshake he took it in his other hand, and
gently opened my palm. He lightly ran the tip of his index finger
along the center of it. My first instinct was to pull my hand back,
but there was something I liked about the way he was gently stroking
my open palm.

"I hope you don't mind. You have such a well defined life line."

"What are you talking about?"
 
"I am sorry, man." He continued to hold my hand with his left hand but
stopped stroking. "My grandmother is 98. She was a fortune teller in
her day, and she taught me about palm reading."

"Go ahead, tell me what you see." This was pretty cool. I had never
had my palm read before.

"You are a man who desires passion but not commitment. Tell me if I am
off track."

"You are right on so far. What else?"

"You have a diverted line. This tells me that in the pursuit of your
passion you have strayed from some of the social norms."

"What exactly does that mean?"

"It means that if the general public knew about some of the ways you
have fulfilled your passionate desires you would be the object of
scorn. Another line that connects to the diverted one tells me that
these particular pursuits fulfilled your desires to a larger level
than other more acceptable ways."

"Could you repeat that in layman's terms?"

"Now, I could be wrong. His is just my interpretation. If I'm wrong,
no hard feelings, OK man?"

"I am open minded, tell it all." I kept driving. This was fascinating.
He continued to hold my open palm. His hands were hot and a sort of
sensual electricity flowed from them.

"Well, you had some desires. Maybe sexual. You got off in ways that
most people would not approve of, at least publicly, anyway. And, you
actually enjoyed those ways more than the more accepted ways."

This guy was amazing. Before I met him I was thinking back to my male
sex partners, and how they actually pleased me more than all the pussy
did. He was right on. I asked, "What about the `no commitment' thing?"

You have a very deep line down here that is not attached to your
lifeline. It tells me that you want the passion with no strings
attached."

"Man, you ought to go into the business." He let go of my hand, and I
found myself wishing he hadn't.

"I just dabble in it. I don't read everyone that I shake hands with,
but your hand sent me a signal when I shook it. I had to check it out.
How accurate was I?"

"Well, pretty good. I have been married for three years and I feel
like I am in prison when I am around her. Before then I always would
`love `em and leave `em', as they say."

"What about the social norms thing, if you feel free to share it? I am
very open minded about things like that. Is there some accuracy to
that?"

I didn't know this guy, and it didn't really matter what he thought. I
was going to let him off in Indianapolis and never see him again,
anyway. "Well, I have gone off the beaten path some."

"In sexual ways?"

"Yes. That is the passion you saw. I like sex, and I like it hot, hot,
hot!"

"Listen, I don't know you, and you don't know me, man. If you don't
want to tell me about the `different' ways you have gotten off, you
don't have to."

"There have been some things I have done in the past that would not be
acceptable to society in general, as you say."

"Man, you don't have to share it with me."

"The `no strings' thing is right on, though. Right on!"

We went down the road quietly. I chose at that time not to tell him
about the gay activity that I had been involved with. We had just
crossed into Indiana when I spoke up again.. "Where have you been
sleeping on your excursion to Omaha?"

"The night the bitch locked me out I stayed at a friend's. I left
Philadelphia yesterday morning, and slept last night in a bus station
in Pittsburgh. I would have slept in the airport, but the new security
procedures won't let anybody in unless they are flying. I cleaned up
in the men's room the best I could, and caught a ride to Columbus this
morning."

I knew the rules about picking up strangers. I knew all the risks.
There was something special about this guy, though. I decided to take
the risk.

"Listen, man. You have had it rough, with getting scammed by your
wife, and getting kicked out of your place, and thumbing halfway
across the country. It can't be easy." We were about 40 miles from
Indianapolis. It was now 7:30 PM, and the sun was starting to set.
"Why don't you stay in with me? That way you can get a good night's
sleep, and shower good, and I will take you on to Peoria in the
morning."

"Man, that's asking a hell of a lot. I couldn't do that."

"You aren't asking. I'm offering. Of course, you would be staying with
a guy who violated society`s boundaries a time or two." We laughed.

"Well, then. OK. I would appreciate it very much. I will be glad to
pay my share. I could send it to you after I get settled in Omaha."

"Hey, it won't cost me anything.  The company picks up the tab. All
the rooms at this place have two double beds, but they only charge for
one person. When we check in, you can lie across the seat and hide
from the clerk's view."

"Wow, that's real generous. Thanks."

I exited off when we got there, and stopped at a convenience store and
picked up a six pack of light beer. While I was inside, he got in the
back seat. He hid behind the seat while I checked in. I came out with
the key and drove around back to the room. Inside I turned on the
heat, because it was a cool autumn night.

He said, "I feel totally grungy. I am going to take a shower."

"Go right ahead. I am going to check out some TV. I opened a beer,
kicked off my shoes,  and lay back on the right hand bed against the
pillows.

I had a little `under the table' deal with the desk clerk at that
motel. I would tip him a five, and he would give me the adult movie
package from the satellite, and work the cost into the bill so it
would be hidden from the company. I took the remote. I usually passed
by the all male stuff, but this night I was intrigued. I stopped on
it, and watched two guys with very large cocks suck each other off.
The water in the shower was running, so I unfastened my belt and pants
and pulled them down with my underwear, exposing my now hard cock. I
was average, cut, about 7 " hard, and about an average banana in the
big around department. I had the usual dark brown pubes, almost black.
I had average, general issue private parts, that I kept inside
average, general issue Fruit of the Loom briefs.

He was taking a long shower. I stroked, thinking about the guys I had
in the past, and the hot sex we had all those times. I was missing it.
I came to the edge of cumming several times, and stopped, and resumed
stroking when I regained control. I was also intrigued about my new
roommate. He had such a sensual touch when he was holding on to my
hand and reading my palm. He was right on every point. There must be
something to this fortune telling shit.

I kept stroking until I heard the water stop. I fastened back up, just
leaving my belt undone, and I turned to the more `vanilla' Playboy
channel. I finished my beer.

He came out with a towel around his waist. He said, "Hey porno! Cool!"
They were showing a series about Miss October, and she was lovely. All
of the curves were in all the right places. He watched, and said,
"Nice titties! You know, no matter how hard you try, you can't pick up
something as nice as they make it look in the porn industry."

"You are so right, man."

He then shocked me. "Would you care if I strut in my birthday suit
tonight. I need to save my clean clothes." He put his hands where the
towel was tucked at his waist."

"No problem, it's nothing I haven't seen before. Do your own thing."

He dropped the towel. What I saw next was incredible. He had an
enormous uncut cock! It was flaccid, but had to be hanging at least
four inches, with wrinkles. It was crowned with a  beautiful quaff of
blonde pubic hairs. He stomach was a firm six pack. "You must work
out, man." I was acting like it was the firm abs that impressed me the
most. Ha!

"Yeah, I went to the gym religiously in Philly, the kind where you get
a personal trainer during your sessions."

"I am a member of a gym in Baltimore, but I don't go like I should." I
got up from the bed. I offered him a beer, and he took one. He placed
that unbelievable body on the left hand bed, and laid there with his
legs spread at a 45 degree angle. I  already had a hard on before he
strutted his stuff. This just added to it. I handed him the remote. He
kept it on the bunny.

I didn't take any clean clothes in the bathroom with me. I figured I
would jack off in the shower, and my cock would go down, and I would
strut my stuff without revealing my gay tendencies, which a boner
would have made apparent. The massage on the shower turned me on big
time. I was ready to blow my wad. I was thinking, though. He read my
palm, and he guessed about my tendencies, and, oh, what a body that
guy had out there. I decided to take a chance. Maybe there was a way
to find out if he would be willing to join in on the fun.

 I had an escape plan, just in case he did not have any gay
tendencies, which was a real possibility. I wrapped a towel tightly
around my waist, pulling my cock up, and wrapped another towel over
it. That hid the bulge. I didn't know what moves I would make to find
out if he was willing, but I thought I would wait and see. If he had
the tendencies, maybe he would make a move. If he didn't, I could
remove the towel with my back turned to him and slip under the covers
and jack off after he went to sleep.

I didn't have to worry about moves. I came out and he was under the
covers with his knees propped up. He had changed the channel to the
all male network.

He looked at me. "You said you had gone off the beaten path some, so I
thought you wouldn't mind if I pleasure myself watching the guys. If
it bothers you, I'll stop."

I could feel blood rushing out of my head. This was unbelievable. "Are
you gay?"

"More like bi. I have had some guys in the past, but the chicks are
hot, too."

I stood there. My cock was hurting smashed under the towels. I
confessed. "The social norms passion thing you saw on my palm, well, I
am the like you. I love pussy, but I can't stand bitches. I have done
guys, too, and had some hot stuff going with them. We would get it on,
and get off, and go our way. Hot!"

He lowered the covers, exposing his incredible hard cock. It was
between eight and nine inches long, and perfectly straight! I just
stared.

He looked at me and asked, "What do you think we should do?"

I undid the towels. My cock bounced up and down as it rested in its
upward angle. I sat next to him on the bed.

"What do you like?"

"Anything except anal is OK with me." He sat up took those incredible
hands and ran them up my thighs, gently touching the head of my cock.
The electricity was amazing. He then massaged my neck with his two
hands, and slowly ran his soft palms down over my chest, across my
nipples, toying with my naval, and gently circling his right palm
across the ends of my pubic bush. He gently touched my cock again,
taking it in his fist, and stroked it fast, and then very, very slow.
This guy's hands were as incredible as his cock. He continued with
those marvelous hands, stroking my cock. He could tell when I couldn't
stand it anymore, and would stop, and restart, as to hold off my
orgasm.

His cock was standing there, nested in those amazing golden blonde
pubes. I hadn't done oral much, but I wanted the head of that thing in
my mouth. I pulled his foreskin down and took the head in my mouth. He
let out a loud moan. My waist was twisted, as my feet were dangling
off the side of the bed while he stroked me, and my face was over this
guy's cockhead. I kept sucking. I could in no way get the entire thing
in my mouth, so I concentrated on the head. I stroked the lower part
of the shaft with my right hand while I danced my tongue all around
the bottom of his cockhead. Then I closed my lips on the head while I
tongued it some more. I toyed with his tight scrotum some as I
continued sucking. I was making loud smacking noises. We did not say a
word, until he whispered, "Do you want to be sucked, too?"

I whispered back. "Just keep working me with that hot hand." . Not
another word was spoken the rest of the night.

He brought me to the edge many times, and always read the body
language, would stop, and start in again. I kept on sucking him. I
brought him to the edge a couple of times, too, and let off and
started up the tongue action some more.

It was time. I couldn't stand it any longer. I thrust my pelvis up
high, and he starting a rapid succession of strokes. He did not let
up. I took my lips off his cock and stroked him with the same
intensity.

YyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyYYYYYYYYYES! I blew my
load as he pointed it back to my chest. Then I could feel his enormous
cockhead get harder than it had gotten the whole night. His first shot
went about 3 feet in the air, and landed on the bedspread off to his
right. I sent the rest of the hot spunk back on his chest. He began
rubbing my cum all over my chest like it was lotion, and I did the
same. After it was all rubbed in, he took his hot hand on my right
shoulder, laid back, and pulled me toward him, holding me tight,
caressing my ass cheeks, as our now receding cocks touched each other.
He ran those hot hands all over my back and ass, and patted me on the
ass, and let me go. I took my now weak, naked body over to the other
bed, got under the covers, and went to sleep. I had a smile on my face
bigger than Indiana.

The next morning I woke up and he was not in the bed. His backpack and
clothes were gone. I had a feeling of dread. "Damn, my wallet! Shit!"

I was relieved, though. It was still in my pants. All of the cash and
credit cards were still inside it.

Then I noticed a note scratched on the motel stationary. I read it,
smiled, folded it up and put it in my pocket.

I checked out of the motel. A diner with good food was just a couple
of places down from the motel.

I flashed my left turn signal to turn on the highway from the motel
lot. Before proceeding, I could see a large truck pulled over to the
side of the road. With a better look, I could see my companion getting
in on the passenger side with his backpack. The truck passed where I
was sitting. I smiled again, turned, and went to eat breakfast.

Oh, the note. Yes, here is what it said.

"Thanks for the rides. The one to Indianapolis, and the one to bliss.
I am moving on, man. No strings."

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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