Date: Wed, 26 Sep 2012 05:33:28 -0600
From: Rob Ioveboy <robloveboy@gmail.com>
Subject: My-Way-Or-The-Highway-4

My Way Or The Highway

Chapter Four

By Rob Loveboy
   <robloveboy@gmail.com>

Alex was giving it hell on Branden's cock while masturbating Doogan so hard
that the kid could barely keep his balance. At least Branden had a
head-hold to help support his wavering hips as the cock monger extended
little mercy feeding his manic infatuation, undoubtedly supercharged by the
Ecstasy high.

Rising to my feet, I looked Jordie in the eye and placed my hands on his
shoulders. Applying only the slightest pressure, the message became clear
and he pulled away from me and began dancing. It was what I expected. As
far as he was concerned, Alex and I were the fags and that he and Branden
were only along for the ride, after all, a blow-job is a blow-job and a
mouth has no gender to a horny teenager. Neither was he about to demean
himself in front of Branden, even he if he was tempted to take the plunge,
and that was okay by me in the interim, Doogan's mouth would serve the
purpose.

I would have preferred to have set an example out of Branden lip-locked on
my schlong to show Jordie that participation in a sexcapade was a two way
street, but I didn't have the heart to disrupt his moments of bliss at the
hands of Alex. Nonetheless, the expression on Jordie's face was priceless
when Doogan was summoned, smiley faced, and eagerly knelt before me.

Preoccupied watching Jordie watching the action as he grooved to his own
private rave with his upended fat meat slapping his belly and either side
of his groin high above his sprightly active balls, I would have missed
Branden's orgasm if he had not audibly drawn attention to it. His head
reared back along with his torso, thankfully surrounded by Alex's strong
arms keeping him from toppling backwards.

Captivated by the erogenous spectacle, I nutted Doogan's mouth. Alex
crawled over like a hungry dog and took the last few dribbles from my
shaft. He then set his sights on the next best, and closest thing to
manhood, Doogan's immature spike. Perhaps a little to aggressively,
devouring the boy's complete genitalia and momentarily absent minded of the
tender cherries. Doogan winced, then giggled. All was well again until a
few minutes later, Doogan began to dance from foot to foot and a pained
look on his face. He had to pee.

"Piss in my mouth!" Those four garbled words out of Alex's mouth took a
moment to decipher. The young man was a cock pig, and a cock pig he'd be
treated like.

Doogan heard the request and looked at me repulsed. "Let it fly, Doogie,
. . . just let it fly, son!" I instructed him.

Alex gurgled and sputtered. Piss sprayed from the corners of his mouth like
a leaky coupling on a kitchen faucet before he sealed it tight. His larynx
and protruding Adam's apple darted up and down directing the golden flow
into his sewer pipe throat.

I wasn't impressed, but I wasn't appalled. To each his own in what turns
him on. Besides, I chucked to the thought that he'd be pretty handy for a
long-distance trucker to have along for when nature calls. Stopping to
relieve themselves easily costs a half hour of valuable log-book time by
the time all is said and done. Milk cartons and large zip-lock baggies
discretely tossed out the window are the norm with the hopes that
Johnny-Law doesn't see, and cite you for littering.

Doogan was the only witness to Alex's degradation of himself, the other two
boys were engrossed in burning off drug induced energy. Doogan wouldn't
comprehend the basics of water-sports, it was simply beyond his scope of
understanding. Giving blow-jobs and accepting cock up his arse was common
male-play in his naïve, manipulated mind. But drinking pee would
definitely be outside his comfort zone of persuasion. Not that he had to
worry, the feeling was mutual!

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and this beholder enjoyed an eye full
and then some. Sitting down to rest unable to keep up to the energetic
throng, I took in their individuality. All were sleek bodied, nice looking
lads in their own way. Doogan, with his boyish features and perpetual state
of wonder; Branden's ever serious, cautious demeanor, and Jordie's pimple
face, devil-may-care, teenage exuberance.

Even Alex, passing into adulthood with some very advanced responsibilities
entrusted upon him by his family, still maintained that youthful
flair. Perhaps he never really experienced his teen years being burdened by
his dad's expectations ever since the day he could physically lift a block
of ice.

I suddenly felt sorry for Alex. Growing up gay in butt-fuck Northern
Ontario couldn't be easy. Most rural youth, gay or straight, move to the
cities at their first opportunity. In all probabilities, he was destined to
remain there, eventually taking on the family trade, maybe marry some local
girl to keep up appearances, but he would be sucking cock in truck stop
washrooms forever and a day! I made a mental note to compare our weekly
schedules, surely we would find a common locale to get together in future,
especially when runaway season came to sad, lonely end.

So who could blame the young man making a fool of himself on his hands and
knees like a dog in heat, licking the genitals of boys dancing around him
in a circle. They teased him like a dog, too; offering a bone and pulling
it away, or laugh at him trying to capture a swaying one in his mouth. Even
Doogan was enjoying the humiliation tactics.

It was Jordie who initiated the assault. Holding Alex's head in a vice-like
grip, he face fucked him without compassion. Deep plunges that challenged
his gag reflexes causing him to retch until he managed to stifle and meet
the ramrod with renewed ardor. Jordie had probably watched too many porn
movies all having the same script and plot with only the actors ever
changing, not unlike the one previously viewed in our little den of
inequity, the screen of which was casting a blue hue over the room, the
action having ended and long been forgotten in lieu of the live, homemade
version.

Of course Branden would soon mimic the throat rape a few minutes later when
his new friend swiveled and offered Alex's head between his hands like it
was a football strategy to be ran with and carried to a touchdown. The only
too-willing older teen squatted on his knees, mouth agape and lunged
forward to receive his next test of raunchy stamina, subsequently passed in
repeated succession among the three youths his junior despite at their
oppressive amusement.

Alex not only needed to get fucked for the first time, but gang banged to
make his night cockfully satisfying. He would waddle out of that motel room
in the morning, get in his truck and regret every bump on the highway along
his journey if I had anything to do with it. Which I did, after all, It was
my way or the highway!

Stacking pillows in the middle of the makeshift dance floor was observed
with curiosity until I was satisfied the level was sufficient, the only
minor challenge was getting Alex's mouth off Jordie long enough to persuade
him to belly down with his ass in the air. He knew what was coming,
everyone else did, as well.

Lubing up Doogan to be the first in taking Alex's virginity was a kind
gesture on my part, a luxury that, unfortunately, was not bestowed upon
Doogan or Branden. Start small and working up, I would be the last to stuff
the tender sausage casing with meat, all with the satisfaction of paving
the way for countless other truckers seeking the only free alternative to
pussy far away from home.

Alex reacted as any male or female would to having their anatomical
plumbing valve forced into a reverse mode contrary to its intended
design. Doogan was surprisingly gentle worming his way through the pinched
elastic like, surrendering muscles. It certainly helped that the receiver
was an enthusiastic first timer learning a whole new respect and regard for
the hardened male appendage.

Although it would have been nice to double-end him, I felt it prudent to
stay clear of his jaws in the interim stages of adjustment. Standing above
Alex's body and the kneeling boy behind him, who was proudly the new center
of attention being prompted by his peers to sodomize with greater vigor, I
placed my cock at his lips. Once again, Doogan was being used to set the
standard for things to come.

Doogan being relieved and my brief eye contact with Branden, who was
nobody's fool, knew exactly what was in store as he knelt, greased himself
and gave Alex a little more girth and length to contend with. First looking
over his shoulder at the dancing Jordie who was staring back at him with a
smirk, he brazenly took me.

Branden set his frustrations with me out on Alex, who's reflexes tried to
pull himself forward at the sudden attempt of the larger boy to impale
him. Had it not been for my lower legs scissor-locked at his fleshy sides
just at his hip bone, the teen may have managed to scramble ahead. In
defeat, he reared back like a contortionist with his head slamming my ass
for only a moment until he spine protested and he slumped down like a
Muslim in prayer.

Branden needed a little attitude adjustment, not from abusing Alex's
rectum, but showing defiance toward me by implementing his teeth in such a
subtle way that I may have gotten the impression that he was lost in heat
of the moment. He underestimated me. His next gasp for air was met with a
shove to his tonsils and held there long enough to send the returned
message, postage paid.

Jordie was oblivious to the disciplining, from his position behind he most
probably thought that the gasping Branden had ingested an inch or two more
than he reckoned he was capable of handling. A judgment error soon
corrected, Branden became orally submissive to me, but continued to ravage
Alex. Most assuredly he was trying to maintain a balance. A balance of
aggression and subservience, even allowing him to forgo blowing me for
short durations while he vainly plummeted Alex when Jordie took on a
peculiar interest, shifting his dance to a more, nonchalant bird's eye
view.

Alex either became numb, or his grunts were indications of acceptance. Not
long afterward, he no longer tried to escape the confines of my legs. The
answer to that was soon revealed when he threw his head back, meeting
Branden's drive in unison like a well oiled machine. Alex had crossed that
threshold between pain and pleasure.

Branden was going to cum, all the tell tale signs became obvious. My cock
laid idle in his mouth and his face contorted as if in pain, with a final
push forward his torso skimmed my thighs as he flopped over Alex's
back. His bum cheeks flexed and hollowed with every rush of ejaculate to a
final mere quiver, spent and exhausted.

I stooped and physically lifted his ass to the side to make room for
Jordie, who was anxiously waiting his turn. Not bothering to lube himself,
he gained headway into the primed chasm with a little effort. Alex wailed
at the void being reloaded with a greater thickness and the painful urgency
to bury it. His aggressor was also feeling a bit tender, the effects of a
long term erection and then being bored into an orifice half its
circumference.

To say Jordie was enjoying himself regardless, would be an
understatement. Grunting and groaning, with sweat poring off his head, he
stared at my cock a foot away. Catching me off guard, his hands released
Alex's hips and shot up to grab my cheeks and pull me into his face causing
me to stumble and correct my footing before I toppled over. Doogan and
Branden snickered at the near mishap, the latter boy clearly relieved that
his new friend was knob bobbing as he had, dignity restored.

Never did I expect he would venture there. Actually, I was just about to
vacate my birds-eye view and force my head between his kneeling legs to
give his balls a bath and despite my previous reservations, marinate his
raw eye-of-the-round fillet chancing loose hair.

Shocked out of my senses, Jordie was lost in rapture. It was the lousiest
blow-job ever received, like a huge wad of chewing gum, he chomped and
sucked, swallowing any chance of saliva build up for lubrication. However,
his inexperienced effort was outstanding, nonetheless. Seeing that boy's
mouth engulfed with cock was worth my discomfort, topped off by his eyes
rolling back in their sockets, a throaty growl that may have been an
attempt to vociferate words to match his ecstatic physical state.

Throughout his orgasm, he ceased noshing but kept me lodged and a
humming-like unknown tune, the tingling vibrations of which were
pleasurably felt deep within my shaft. I regretted unloading my own
ejaculate in Doogan's mouth, that would have been an added bonus to watch
him slurp it down his throat at some point during his heated sexual high
that I had a feeling he would regret the whole episode soon after the drugs
wore off, or when he awoke in his bed.

I gave it to Alex full bore until my knees ached and my cock couldn't take
any more abuse. He didn't complain and flopped down on his belly when I
called it quits. His anal ring agape, red and swollen that shined in a
slimy mixture of fluids and the distinct odor of a well fucked ass hinted
the air along with the body odors, all of which reeked hard core sex like
I'd never been exposed to before.

It was nearing midnight by then, Jordie searched for his clothes,
announcing that he had to go home. Quite comically, he tried adjusting his
cock to no avail, deciding to tuck his t-shirt to hang over the prominent
strain of his spandex shorts. Alex's request for his phone number was
refused, there would be no more homosexual encounters, we'd all go our
separate ways never to cross paths with Jordie again.

The four of us took an intimate shower together jostling in a three step
maneuver; wet down, lather, and rinse. Seemed we all needed to piss and
really didn't care who sprayed who in a hilarious game that Doogan called
"fire-hose." The bathroom floor took the brunt of the shower antics, slick
with water and soap.

It was a great day with an exhausting end. Sore, achy genitals prohibited
further sex play and sleep was on everyone's mind. Branden and Alex took
one bed and Doogan and I, the other as he would have it no other way, he
wanted to cuddle me, a morning blow-job was rest assured. No doubt, Branden
would be treated to an eye-opener as well. There would be no rush to blaze
the trail in the morning. If the roads had opened, traffic would be
horrendous and at a snail's pace and Annabelle hated the constant shifting
of her low gears. Late afternoon travel at the legal speed limit would
equate in the same distance at half the speed. Let the turtle-tourists get
a head start; . . . me and Annabelle were sleeping in for a change!

The heavy curtains prevented daylight from seeping in and with it, any
guesstimate of time. Someone's underwear, my own perhaps, covered the LED
display of the clock radio, only a red glow perforated the thin white
material. Doogan's warm mouth did, however, indicate a restful slumber by
him and the time to be sometime early or mid morning.

Unless Doogan's wet suckling sounds were echoing in my foggy brain, I
turned my head in the direction of the second source sounding like wet feet
stomping a tiled floor. The TV had never been shut off and still cast a
blue haze over the darkened room, and what I saw in the glow caused me to
shake the cobwebs and become wide eye alert as if my dead mother was in the
bed next to mine.

Branden was atop Alex in a sixty-nine, both were equally enamored and
engaged in a fervorous session of oral coupling. I expected no less from
Alex, but Branden's avid investment was mind boggling, almost as jolting as
Jordie's fervid decision to suck my cock!

Doogan was doing a great job stimulating the lump of meat full in his mouth
with his nose tickled by pubic hair. However, it was the scene in the next
bed that was enough to choke him with the rapid expansion had he not been
on the ball and gradually eased off accordingly.

It was absolutely earth shattering. Branden had the upper position and
freedom that that position demanded, full advantage of access, and he was
making his stature well appreciated by the young man beneath being
faced. Alex's neck and head straining upward to be plummeted, desperately
striving to keep the younger teen's over zealousness from escaping his lips
as the boy reared back and drove forward back into he vacuum, Alex's cheeks
were sunken, the skin on his face contorted like a skeletal scull. Even his
eye sockets showed a ghostly, lifeless appearance.

Where Branden found his sudden libido could only be from one swayed source;
Jordie! Without a doubt, his friend's freehearted spectacle performance was
interpreted as an endorsement for casual, uninhibited bisexuality. What he
didn't know was that Jordie was probably emotionally beating himself up at
that exact moment, thanking his lucky stars that we were again to be
nonentities in his life, a closed chapter.

However, one man's pain is another man's gain. Thanks to Jordie, I had a
good feeling that the next few days westward would be very satisfying with
Branden's new outlook on things, the two of them were snorting and scoffing
like pigs in a sty on an feeding frenzy! I wondered if they hadn't been
into the Ecstasy again until I remembered Alex saying that the second
generous pass around was the last of his supply.

Doogan wasn't any less bashful in letting the room know what he was doing,
no less taking his cue from Branden, but slightly more exaggerated to gain
the attention. It scored him a fleeting side glance by Branden, enough to
keep up appearances as "being one of the boys!" I had a premonition that,
in a kind spirited sort of way, he would be offering blow-jobs to many boys
and men who paid him a little homage. The boundaries would have to be
explained, another mental note stored in my dumb trucker's memory bank.

A ruckus of sputtering, spitting, throat heaving gobs erupted followed by
Branden's voice of disdain, "I told ya to tell me when, Alex!" he scathed,
while the geyser in his fist continued to spew a few more jettisons into
the air.

I couldn't resist defending Alex, "Fuck, Branden! --The guy can't even
breathe, let alone talk!" I laughed, "Besides, it wouldn't be your first
mouthful. --No one else here seems to have a problem with it." Quick
thinking, I added the white lie, "Ya didn't see Jordie complain. Fuck,
. . .  I was afraid he was going to suck my nuts out through my cock and
chew them to get more!" I chuckled.

Bullshit baffling brains, Branden paused to consider that new bit of
insight then went down on Alex to salvage whatever he could and resumed
plunging the older teen, all forgotten as if there hadn't been a hiccup in
the action at all. When he came, rearing his head in a howl, a milk-like
mustache and goatee had formed caused by his cum-laden thumb and index
finger smearing his mouth. The erotica of that sent me over the edge, the
little trusty wet-vac never missed a drop!

There wouldn't be a need to ask anyone if the highway had reopened as we
made our way for breakfast, the parking lot was virtually empty. The Town
of Buttfuck, Ontario was free of hostile occupation and everything was back
to normal, including the Ontario Provincial Police Department, judging by
the piece of paper flapping under Annabelle's wiper in the distance, the
only vehicle seen illegally parked along side the highway.

The double standards of the law, a tourist would get a warning citation, a
trucker gets a hefty fine with no option but to pay it to the province,
unless the remote possibility that you are in the vicinity to argue your
case on the court date listed on the ticket. The cops for miles around
would have raced to the scene of the crime in order to have added the
violation to their duty quotas, one got lucky to be first on scene.

The double standard doesn't just lie there. Whenever the cops are looking
for someone or a vehicle, they don't hesitate to recruit assistance and
occupy the CB radio channel with descriptions, or stop by the truck stops
to hand out fliers. Nor do they take into account the all to frequent
accidents where the trucker is usually the first responder, saving untold
lives and humbly carry on his journey, the unknown hero.

We bade Alex goodbye, an emotional moment by all except me, having his
cellphone number and basic schedule routine safely tucked in my pocket. The
boys hung out the window and waved and screamed adios' to an unseen Jordie
somewhere out there, I gave the finger to the cop parked illegally on the
side of the road as Annabelle picked up speed and cleared the township
limits.

Some truckers would make up time and drive well into the night risking
deer, moose and bears with nothing else to do but stand in the middle of
the highway and watch ya coming. I swear they are experts at the game of
"chicken!" I picture them standing around the local watering hole bragging
of the nights wins. Black rubber skid marks left after a semi's binders are
applied scar the pavement, called "phantom marks" because they begin
suddenly and lead nowhere, veering left or right and hopefully, not into
the ditch.

Nope. Not me. I drive my regular routine and shut down in my habitual
spots, my contractor well advised of a twenty-four hour delay would already
be making arrangements for a switch-load and turn around at the Rocky
Mountains' foothills city of Calgary, Alberta; three-hundred miles short of
Branden and Doogan's juvenile fantasy, fruit picking destination.

It was time for a serious talk about that. I hated myself for getting
emotionally involved, but could never live with the perilous thoughts of
their destiny. Annabelle and I talked about it that night, she suggested I
simply drive off while they were using a restroom, wash my hands of the
whole matter, stuff some cash in Branden's back-pack of useless electronic
toys and leave it, along with Doogan's kit on the curb-stone where they
last seen us.

She was a callous bitch, a heart of steel and the guts of grit and metal
shavings. I closed her hood and thanked her for her opinion, stripped off
my clothes and joined the two vulnerable naked boys skimming stones off the
mirror-like surface on one of the many small, pristine waters of the "Lake
Of The Woods" in God's Little Eden of dense forest, not far from the
Ontario/Manitoba border.

My trailer had been left at a weigh-station in order to traverse the
two-miles of logging road. A full rig turn around would be an impossible
feat unless another ten-miles of rough terrain was traveled before the
Logging camp allowed such a maneuver. Annabelle was a Class "A" highway
bitch, not an off road Class "C" whore truck built to withstand a rugged,
abusive lifestyle.

It would be repetitive and redundant of me to to delve into further
portrayals of our sexual activities on route to Calgary. The bizarre orgy
evening could never be topped, other than to to say that Doogan took a
perverse liking of sitting on my lap at the wheel and fuck my cock, a sight
that any motorist may shake their heads, questioning their millisecond of
discernment observed in the windshield or side window of the semi passing
like a bullet.

At Calgary, I broke the news to Branden that it was the end of the line. It
was another moment of decision no different than when he climbed aboard
Annabelle 2,200 miles ago, only this time he was faced with his best friend
being left behind. Doogan was staying with me, no two ways about it. He was
going back to wherever Branden easily convinced him to leave.

Parked in front of the Greyhound station, I gave him bus fare. Defiant and
pissed off, he opened the door. I handed him his back-pack and wished him
luck. Doogan was crying, his face pressed into and breath fogged up the
passenger window, fists pounding on the glass.

In my right exterior mirror, I saw the boy standing on the sidewalk as
Annabelle moaned and groaned forward, she hated the downtown core of any
city. Suddenly she sputtered, huffed and puffed and lurched forward to a
stall blocking rush hour traffic and refused to re-engage her
ignition. Click, click, click, she sounded much to my frustration and the
impatient traffic backing up behind us.

I must have been checking my mirrors to see the how much shit we were
causing, when I seen the little figure running toward us in my convex lens,
his most valued possessions cast aside so as not to encumber his sprint and
flailing arms.

Annabelle decided to wake up and roar at that exact moment, then purred
like a kitten waiting for the teary eyed Branden to open the door and crawl
inside. She did have a heart after all, she was determined to take BOTH
boys safely home!

The End!