Gay Erotic Stories

By A. R. Booth

Part 7

With no small amount of unease, I slipped back into my seat at the counter. Billy B. of course sat down next to me in his seat. I nervously stole a glance at him, a little unsure of what ta say or do, especially considerin' what had happened in the bathroom. He seemed to notice I was starin' and he shifted slightly in his seat to look at me. He just let that damned lopsided grin show and let his cant a bit in my direction.

"Don't ya worry yo'self none, kid. Ah shouldn't've tried ta pull that on ya. Shoulda realized ya was confused, an' Ah had no right ta try an' do what Ah did. So, Ah'm sorry. Fer whutever it's worth, to ya," he whispered softly in my direction so as not to be overheard by whoever else may've been listening.

Well, to say the least, that helped ta ease me up considerably. I became more relaxed and sat more comfortably on the otherwise uncomfortable counter-chair.

The food came, two plates heapin' full of eggs, bacon, sausage links, toast an' a side of biscuits and gravy. I just stared slack jawed at what was sat down in front of me and "Donna" just clucked her tongue against her teeth and with a loud smack of her gum she placed her hands on her hips.

"Well, are ya just gonna sit there and gawk, or are ya gonna eat kid? I didn't traipse these old bones over here simply for your enjoyment, ya know." Then with a sharp sigh, a roll of her eyes and a shake of her head at some customer askin' for more coffee she turned on her heels, heading into the kitchen, My assumption being to retrieve a pot of the asked for coffee. "Never a moment's rest 'round here..." could be heard under her breath as she stalked off.

A short garbled chuckle-fit to my right told me that somethin' had really tickled Billy B. I turned my head ta look at him and he was watching "Donna" as she walked off.

"That there woman's gon' die of a stroke one 'a these days the way she keeps goin' on the way she does."

Shaking his head at the thought he picked up his fork and began to dig in to the eggs on his plate. I looked back to my own plate and picked up the fork and tore through that food without so much as stopping to taste it. Before long that plate was licked clean, and I suddenly felt a strange prickly feeling on the back of my neck. I looked up from the plate and noticed that every other customer, including Billy B. (who's plate was still half-full) and "Donna" -who had stopped in mid-stride holding a half-full pot of coffee-were all starin' at me like I had just stepped off the mother ship. I could feel my cheeks begin to redden, and the sudden clang of the fork as I let it slip from my fingers onto my plate sounded to me more like the ringin' of loud church bells the room was so quiet. I just smiled sheepishly and lowered my head, starin' down at the plate.

"Well, at least SOMEONE appreciates good food when they see it." Donna was the first one to break the silence. She then gave a nod of approval and a tight thin-lipped smile and off she was again on some errand or another. That seemed to set everyone else at ease, and the low chatter of people started up again as everyone went back to eatin' and talkin'.

I gave that nervous grin again and looked over to Billy B., whos lips were caught half open in a mixture of surprise and the beginnings of another laugh. He just shrugged and turned back to his own plate, stealing glances at me out of the corner of his eyes.

"Boy oh boy, Ah ain't seen no one chow that fast since Ah fergot ta feed ol' Buddy fer a week. Ol' Buddy was my dog when Ah's a young feller." He added as if he needed to explain away the spectacle he'd just witnessed. I just laughed a little and leaned against the counter after pushing my now empty plate away.

Soon enough, Billy B. had finished his food and the plates were cleared away by the disgruntled waitress "Donna" who had grumbled something about "...should make 'em clean their own plates..." in that half-joking, abrupt humor of hers.

We settled down into a comfortable silence, as Billy B. sipped from his seemingly always full hot coffee and me chugging down cola like there was no tomorrow. Billy B. was the first to break the silence as he sat his mug down after another sip. He turned in his chair, leaning his elbow up on the counter and rested his rugged cheek on a loose fist. Those haunting steel grey-blue eyes of his gave me another once over before settling in my own greenish-blues.

"So, what're ya gon' do now that ya've got a full belly? Where ya gon' go?" His voice was soft and low and it wavered, as if he was indecisive about saying something.

I just shrugged my shoulders, looking down at my half-empty soda glass mumbling a soft "I dunno. I was thinkin' 'bout goin' ta New York City. That's what a friend of mine tol' me I should do."

Billy B.'s eyes seemed to light up somewhat as he perked a bit, seemingly deciding on something. "Well, ya know Ah drive a rig, an' it just so happens that Ah'm on my way ta New York now, ta unload a haul. Yer welcome ta come along, if ya don' mind a senile ol' man's company?" He looked away shyly, then as if expecting to be shot down.

I was surprised, to say the least. I kinda stared back at him blankly, not really understanding why this guy I'd never seen before in my life had just offered to take me along with him, much less just paying for both our meals. I wasn't used to being "treated" like that. It took me a moment to gather my thoughts, and I looked back at him trying to be as friendly as possible. I couldn't help the thoughts in the back of my mind that had told me to be wary, because of what had happened earlier in the bathroom. But...the thought of walking all the way to New York was a sobering thought, and I wanted so bad to say "yeah, sure".

Instead, I smiled thankfully and just quietly nodded my head sayin' with actions what my speech-impaired mouth couldn't say. I coughed then, cleared my throat and excused myself to the bathroom. I suddenly had to pee like a racehorse.

Dodging my way past the tables and chairs, duffle bag hung over my shoulder I entered the restroom and, not chancing being snuck up on at a urinal I went into one of the enclosed stalls and shut the door, locking it behind me. Standing at the toilet I gave an immense sigh of relief as my jeans were unzipped and the slight cramping in my belly abruptly stopped as I unloaded myself into the toilet. After what seemed like forever, I finally emptied the last and shook out the remnants from my willy and zipped up. After flushing I picked up my duffle bag and turned around, unlocking the stall door and peering out nervously. I half-expected Billy B. to be there as he was before, but thankfully the room was empty. I crossed the floor to the sinks and went about washing my hands, the whole while my eyes were trained on my reflection in the mirror.

"What's wrong with you. Are ya dumb or somethin'? Stupid kid...you can't trust this guy..."

Thoughts like that ran through my mind, and for a split second I almost decided to tell Billy B. that I would be all right and ta just take off runnin'. Sighing again with indecision I dried my hands off and walked back out the door.

Part of me had hoped that Billy B. would be gone, but no such luck. I walked back up to my seat and sat down beside him, and as he turned to me he gave me a sort of relieved smile. "Ya were gone so long Ah thought ya'd decided ta leave without me." He smiled again and downed the last of his coffee, and stood up pulling out his wallet and leaving a hefty tip for "Donna". In the manner that only she could pull off she was over there snatching up the bills and stuffing them in her apron before we had a chance to walk away.

"That's all I get? After everything I put up with you, Billy B. you should just leave me your wallet and be done with it." Amazingly she laughed and waved good-bye to him "Now both you boys be careful out there, now! Be safe!" She called after us after we waved good-bye and walked in a different direction than I'd come in at.

Billy B. led me through the "entertainment" portion of the truck stop. Here and there were the odd placement of other truckers, either resting or watching TV, or playing games, probably taking a short rest from their routes. Ya couldn't blame 'em though. I figured the life of a trucker was rather lonely, what with bein' in your rig all the time, no one really to talk to accept for the static voices of other truckers on the CB Radio.

Finally he led me out a door towards the back which led to a row of many different 18 wheelers and big rigs, all lined up and ready to go. Some were running, some were quiet, some had lights on others didn't. I was a feeling a little strange, what with being surrounded by those mammoth trucks, the pit of my stomach sort of balling up, half expecting them to suddenly spring to life and run me over.

After a few minutes of walking through the maze of rigs he stopped at a particularly clean 18 Wheeler, the side of the trailer of his truck sporting the name of some trucking company from "Tulsa, OK". The front cab of the huge vehicle was black in color, with the odd assortment of purple, red and blue stripes. The paint itself seemed to be somewhat sparkley, and sterling silver-looking accents were sported from door handles, nuts and bolts, screws and whatever else adorned the truck. I noticed the mud-flaps on the wheels had the image of a rebel flag, torn and dirty, but still flying proudly with the epitath "The South will rise again..." scrawled beneath it in what looked like handwriting. I smirked at that, but also felt a trickle of fear at the base of my skull. My father had that same image on his old Chevy truck back home by way of a window-sticker on the back windshield of the cabin.

Billy B. told me to wait there, because he had to open the passenger door from the inside and he walked around to the driver's side hopping up into the dark cabin of his truck. Within moments I heard the monstrous engine blaring to life. I covered my ears, as it was rather loud and a second after the passenger side door opened up, with Billy B. leaning down from the seat, his hand outstretched to me, I guessed to help me up. I tossed my duffle bag up to the flooring of the seat and grasped his hand, while stepping up onto one of the silver steps that led up to the cabin. A small tug of my arm and I was pulled up into the confines of the cabin. For a moment we were close enough to feel each other's breath on the other's face and I saw what seemed to be a look of longing in those steel grey-blue eyes. He lingered there as if expecting something, but soon enough he turned around and placed himself in the drivers seat while I settled, somewhat nervously, in the passenger side.

I looked around and noticed that the truck was remarkably clean on the inside and smelled faintly of vanilla, the source I found, was a leaf shaped air freshener hanging just above the dashboard. There was what looked to be a small refrigerator in between the seats, just up against the console and turning around I looked into the back of the cabin I saw a small bed lined against the wall, with a tall shelf that looked more like a filing cabinet wedged between the bed and the driver’s seat. The bed was neatly made. It looked, well..really cozy for as small a place as it was.

"Like what ya see, Julian?" He asked me out of genuine curiosity. I told him I had never been inside a big truck like this before, but that it "looked cool.". He chuckled at that and set about flipping switches, turning cranks and doing whatever else he did to get the truck ready to move.

We waited there for quite awhile, as Billy B. said the truck needed to warm up properly before we could take off. But soon enough with a rough jerk and a rev of the engine he slowly and carefully pulled out of the spot, expertly maneuvering the rig through the maze of trucks.

"An' off we go..." He looked at me with a toothy grin as I sat back in the seat, arms crossed over my chest.

TO BE CONTINUED....