Date: Thu, 31 Aug 2000 22:05:30 -0400 (EDT)
From: Marc <Rim4you@webtv.net>
Subject: Roadrunner

Disclaimer:

The following story deals with sexual situations between consenting gay
men.  Certain sexual practices, such as watersports and scat, some
readers may find offensive.  If that is the case, and if you are under
the age of eighteen, STOP HERE!

Roadrunner
By Rim4you

Chapter One

Ever since I was a kid, I was always intrigued with motorcycles.  They
seemed to me the untimate freedom machine.  My Unlcle Bill had a
Harley-Davidson and every now and then, he'd swing by the house in full
leather gear:  boots, chaps, jacket, much to the dismay of my Mom, who
thought her younger brother looked like a thug in his gear, and offer to
take me for a ride.

"Can I go, Mom?"  I'd ask.

"You know how I feel about motorcycles, Chip!"  She'd reply.  "I don't
like ..."

"Dad!"  I'd whine.

"Ah let the boy go," Dad would respond, "Bill's a responsible cyclist
and with his nephew in tow he sure won't pull any crazy stunts."

"Come on, Sis," Bill would rise to my defense, "Chip likes to ride.
He's my sidekick, my little Roadrunner."

"Well I see all of you men are just ganging up on me.  Okay, but ..."

"Thanks, Mom!"  I'd holler, tugging at my Uncle Bill quick before Mom
had a chance to change her mind.

"Hold on, Runner!"  Uncle Bill would say, laughing.  "We're goin' ...
we're goin'!"

Whenever my Uncle Bill took me for a ride on his bike, he always let me
pick out a destination.  Depending on the time frame we had available,
I'd pick spots close to home in Sacramento.  But if Uncle Bill showed up
early, like on a Saturday morning, I'd inevitably pick out my favorite
place:  a scenic look-out point in Donner's Pass.  The view was
fantastic.  I just loved it there at the Pass, in the Sierra Nevada
mountain range of northern California, not too far from Truckee and
Tahoe City.

At fourteen, I was going through some major changes in my life:
puberty.  It was a rough balance between physical changes, emotions and
being horny all the time!

Straddled behind my Uncle Bill on these bike trips, my arms wrapped
around his waist; my hands inches away from the bulge in his tight
levis; the vibrations from the bike and the close proximity of my crotch
to his backside; the smell of leather invading my nostrils all had its
effects on the rising predicament between my legs.

From time to time, during these rides, especially on the long ones out
to Donner's Pass, Uncle Bill would drop his hand down to squeeze mine
and as I squeezed my hand back, often then not, I'd feel his boner.  He
never attempted to swat my hand away whenever I "accidentally" groped
him.  In fact, he'd slide his ass back on the seat until my crotch was
firmly against his butt.  I knew he had to have felt my erection.

When we'd reach my favorite destination, the look-out point, I'd hop off
the bike and stare with wonder at the beauty nature spread out before
me.  Across from the look-out I could see the railroad tracks carved
into the mountainside.

"God!  I love it here, Uncle Bill!"  I'd gasp.
"Thanks for bringing me here!"

"This is our special place, Runner," he'd reply, "don't ever forget
that!"

"Oh I won't, Uncle Bill!  Never!"

Chapter Two

I screamed.  I cried uncontrollably on my eighteenth birthday when Dad
broke the news to me that my Uncle Bill had been killed in a motorcycle
accident.  He had been sideswiped by a pick-up truck trying to pass him
and he skidded out of control.

"He was my best friend, Dad!  He was teaching me how to ride!  I loved
him!"  I sobbed and sobbed.

"I know, son!  I know," Dad replied, holding me in his arms, trying as
best he could to comfort me and soothe my tears.

"Where? Where did it happen, Dad?"  I cried, my body heaving with pain
and grief.

"Close to Donner's Pass,"  Dad replied, holding me close.

"No! ... Uncle Bill! ... No!   No!"  I screamed in anguish.  "That was
our special place, Dad!  Please ... not there!  Not Donner's ..."

My voice trailed and I cried bitterly, holding on to my Dad.

"Why, Dad?  Why?"  I wept, turning my tear stained face towards my
father.

"I don't know why, Chipper,"  Dad responded, lovingly, "but from what
the police officer, who responded to the call of an accident said, was
that your uncle kept repeating over and over, 'Roadrunner ... tell
Runner I'm here and that I love him!"

Hearing that I screamed in the deepest pain and clung to my father.

"Uncle Bill!  Uncle Bill!"  I choked, over and over again.  "I love
you!"

Chapter Three

It's been six years now since my Uncle Bill passed away, but the
memories of our trips to Donner's Pass still haunt me, draw me to this
place of peace and serenity.  Here, in a mountain pass of the vast
Sierra Nevada's, I can reconnect to the joy of my childhood and my Uncle
Bill.

"This is our special place, Runner!" echoed in my head as I revved up my
Harley and coasted to a stop at the look-out at Donner's Pass.  A yellow
rose tucked within my leather jacket to be left behind as a token for my
Uncle, whom I never forgot and still grieved for.

Hopping off of my bike, I headed towards the edge of the look-out and
knelt, placing the rose onto the ground.  My eyes welled up with tears
as I took in the vista before me that I loved so much, and the memories
of an Uncle who meant so much to me.

"Are you okay?"  A voice came from behind me.

I turned slightly, towards the direction of the voice, swiping my hand
across my tear stained face, so absorbed in my thoughts that I didn't
hear the sound of another bike approaching.

"Huh?"  I uttered.

"Are you okay?"  the deep voice uttered again.

"Yeah," I muttered, raising my arm to shield my face from the glittering
sun, glimpsing the motorcycle cop who happened by.  "I'm alright.  I
haven't broken any law or anything, have I?"

"No!"  the cop responded, "it's just that when I saw that your were
upset and all ..."

"Oh!"  I said, trying hard to gain my composure, "it's just that my
Uncle died here six years ago and he used to take me on a bike trip up
here all the time when I was a kid ... it was my favorite place ... our
special place!"

"I'm sorry to hear that," the Officer responded, apporaching me.  "It's
just that when I saw you, and it was obvious that you were upset,  I
just wanted to make sure that you were okay."

"I'll be alright.  I make this trip every year on the anniversary of
..."

I broke down and sobbed.

"It's okay, buddy!"  the Officer responded.  "I understand."

He clasped his arm around my shoulder in a comforting grip.

"What's your name, son?"

"Chip, sir,"  I stammered, "but everyone calls me Runner."

"Runner?  As in Roadrunner?"

"Yes sir, why?"

"Oh my God!"  The motorcycle cop gasped.

"I don't understand?"  I questioned, my eyes brimming with tears.

"You're not going to believe this Chip ... uh ... Runner.  But about six
years ago I responded to an emergency call about a motorcycle accident,
here at the Pass."

"And?"  I choked.

"Well ... uh ... I responded to that call and the young man who died in
that accident kept saying over and over ...'tell Runner, or something to
that effect, that I'm here and that I love him.'"

"That's me!"  I cried.  "I'm Runner ... Roadrunner."

"That's it ... Roadrunner!"

"You mean, you're the Officer who came to help him?  My Uncle Bill?"

"If you're Runner ... or Roadrunner ... yes, son, I was here that day!"

"Did he actually say those words?"  I sobbed, falling into the powerful
embrace of this strapping cop.

"Yes, son, he did.  I've often passed by this place always wondering who
Runner was."

"I'm Runner!  He was my Uncle Bill!"

"Ah, Runner!"  the motorcycle cop said, with emotion in his voice, "I'm
so sorry!"

"Thank you!  Thank you so much for trying to help him!"  I wept.

"I wish I could've done more, for your sake!"

"He died on my eighteenth birthday!  I'm twenty-four now."

"Ah man!"  The Officer sighed, holding me close and rubbing my back.

"What's your name?"  I asked.

"Why ... uh ... my name's Adam!"

"I'm Chip.  But you can call me Runner."

"I'm so glad to have finally met you, Runner.  Every time I pass this
look-out point, your Uncle's words have always haunted me ... 'tell
Runner I'm here and that I love him!'  I never dreamed that one day I'd
actually happen upon you!"

"Well, here I am!  As I've always been for the last six years riding up
here from Sacramento, to this, our special place, to be with him."

"Runner!  Can I talk you into riding into Truckee with me?  To my place?
Unless you have to get back to Sacramento anytime soon?"

"That would be swell, Adam!  I'd like that, if it's no problem with
you?"

"No prob!"  Adam responded.  "I'd enjoy the company very much!"

With that said, Adam and I revved up our bikes and roared down the Pass
towards Truckee.

******************************
If you have any comments or suggestions regarding this story, write to
me at Rim4you @webtv.net