Six Days on the Road
Copyright© 2008 by cmsix
Time Travel Sex Story: Chapter 1 - If you're a fat assed truck driver, on your way to death's door with clogged arteries and a gimp heart, how can you turn the Space Alien down when he offers you perfect health and a big new Dick? Title from the song by the same name, written by Carl Montgomery and Earl Green
Just Like The Song Says
I pulled outta Pittsburgh
Rollin' down that eastern seaboard.
I got my diesel wound up
and she's runnin' like never before.
There's a speed zone ahead all right.
But there ain't a cop in sight.
Six days on the road but I'm gonna make it home tonight. - Written by Carl Montgomery and Earl Green and covered by Dave Dudley and others.
But I wasn't rollin' down that eastern seaboard and I sure as hell wouldn't make it home tonight. I wasn't going much further at all in fact, and I knew it. The end was near for ShotgunWillie - gentleman, scholar, bon vivant, and sorry, no good, truck driving, son-of-a-bitch. At least the spaceman told me the end was near.
According to him the I-76 overpass across I-79 was going to fall flat as soon as I headed under it. Also according to him, I'd be switched out automagically just at the last second and a copy of my body would be smashed into a bloody shitty mess while I'd be safe in their spaceship. Nobody would wonder where I got off to that way.
Hell yes it's unbelievable. Who the fuck you think you're tellin'?
Six weeks or so ago my life was normal, or as nearly normal as an Over-the-Road truck driver's life can be. I drove from can to can't, lied like hell on my log book, and grabbed a nap every now and then whether I needed it or not.
Some people say that's not a real life at all, but it was fine with me. Sure, I didn't really have any friends, and chances were I'd never get one living this way. Then again, if I came across an asshole, they'd be out of my life in a minute or two, depending on how fast the traffic was moving.
My biggest worries were dodging speed cops, weight cops, and four-wheeler driving idiots who all thought, "I'm an excellent driver." Just like "Rain Man" thought. Of course most of them could drive nearly as good as he could.
Everyone in an automobile thinks they're an excellent driver. Take it from me, YOU"RE NOT! You can't drive worth a shit. You are going to end up in a car wreck sooner or later. Count on it. Plan for it. Buy plenty of insurance, because you damned sure don't have a clue about driving.
In the last ten years I've logged three Million miles in a truck without running over a single one of you dumbasses. I know what I'm talking about. Call me collect after you do your first million miles.
Where was I, oh yeh.
About a month ago I started having these strange dreams. I hate it when I dream about driving, it's like I just can't get any time out from under the wheel. In the dreams shitty things would happen, like I'd blow a steer axle tire, or I'd be driving in the snow and my fuel heater would stop working and the diesel in the tanks would gel. Or I'd be crossing Wyoming and they'd close I-80 because of too much ice. The dreams started to piss me off, but they didn't stop.
They got worse. Overpasses started falling on me every time I went under one. When I'd finally had my fill of it I made myself wake up just as one was falling and screamed, Cut that shit out Goddammit.
"Sorry. I know it must have been annoying, but we had to get your attention."
"We who? Why did you need my attention?"
"You're going to die soon."
"What? Who the fuck are you anyway and why am I going to die soon?"
"You can't pronounce my real name so just call me Rosco or something. I'm what you usually call a Space Alien. You going to die over all that fatty pork you've been eating for the last thirty years. It's your blood that's about to gel this time, not your fuel."
"Well shit. If that ain't a kick in the ass. I knew my chest had started hurting every now and then. Don't you think some doctors could fix it up?"
"They can help some, but what's the point. Hell, we've already had to patch it up twice ourselves. You've had two minor heart attacks in your sleep in the last six months and we touched things up to get you by a little longer."
That was a wake up call to top 'em all, but Rosco was starting to sound like someone I knew. Hell, he was slipping into East Texas drawl. Something was more fishy than fishy now.
"So what's the gonna die soon shit about. I'll just go to a Doctor and get fixed up."
"Sure, you can do that, if that's what you really want?"
"Well hell yeh I want it. I damned sure don't want to just die. Where's the fun in that?"
"Where's the fun in what you're doing now?" Rosco asked.
That stumped me and kinda pissed me off too, but he had a point, sorta.
"You go to the Doctor and they cut on your heart. We already know you need a quadruple bypass and three stents at the least. Even that won't do a thing for the rest of your nearly clogged arteries. After the cuttin' is done you're looking at a year of gettin' your fat ass back in shape before you can get back to drivin' unless you just want to have open heart surgery for the fuckin' fun of it and die a couple of months later anyway."
Now that he put it that way it didn't sound like much fun, but like he'd mentioned earlier, I wasn't havin' that much fun anyway.
"Well what do you suggest Mr wise ass redneck soundin' spaceman?"
"Buddy! Have I got a deal for you!"
"Even I ain't dumb enough to fall for that mansion in the sky shit I've heard about you promisin'. With hot and cold runnin' redheads and then findin' out you've amputated my dick first time I talk one out of a little pussy."
"I'm a damned Space Alien you sister fuckin' redneck dumbass. I'm not the one with the pitchfork and the pointy tail. Besides, he wouldn't need to trick and bribe you into Hell. You've already qualified for that destination if it's really down there."
"What'da'ya'mean if? Is it or ain't it?"
"I ain't no Angel neither. We don't know for sure any more than you do. We ain't seen God flying around up here if that's what you're askin', but we don't really know any more about it than you do. Still, going by the book, you sure don't seem to be qualified for any other destination that might have been mentioned in ancient mystical text."
"Look here. Even though we can cover a lotta ground in dreams we still ain't got all night. Do you want to sign on the dotted line or not?"
"A deal dipshit. You're actin' dumber than some Georgia cracker. You were born in Texas boy! Pay attention.
"We'll fix up your heart and everything else. Hell, we'll even make you better than ever. You can be six foot two, weigh two-thirty-five and have a dick long as a well-rope if you want it.
"Your ass is ours after that though," Rosco or something said.
"Most of that sounds good, but let's go over the my ass is yours part again. What in the hell do you want with me?"
"Nothing you'd think was kinky if that's what you mean. They made us stop grabbin' people without them saying it was ok. You should know how the government can get. We've got a government too."
"You mean as far as you've plainly advanced you still ain't figured out how to get rid of bureaucrats?"
"Fuckit then. Just let me die."
"Naw, naw, naw. It's what I've been trying to tell you and I would if you'd let me finish. I can get you away from government, I just can't get myself loose."
"Why can't you?" I asked.
"Cause we ain't got no arms and legs if you must know, and we can't breathe air. We started out as fish, sorta.
"Gettin' back to the point, we can fix your body up and put you on a different planet. One that's like this one was before so many people sprang up, but you only get to take a few things with you and that's the deal."
"Why would I want to do something like that?" I asked.
"Well, it beats hell out of pushin' up daisies."
He had a real point right there.
"Will you put me back in Texas?"
"Do I look like Santy Claws? No we won't put you back in Texas. You may as well wait for the Real God if that's all you'll settle for from us. You can go to Stone Age Europe and like it, or you can lay your fat ass in this sleeper and die."
"All right, all right. No need to get nasty about it just because I'm a little overweight."
"A little overweight? You're six foot tall and your jeans have a forty-four inch waist. You're fatter than a town dog and you know it. It's why your heart's wore out Ignernt. That's it! Your CB handle should be ShotgunIgnerntWillie."
"Well, even with the personal abuse I can see the advantages, but the devil is in the details. You said I could only carry a few things with me. How many things?"
"You can only take as much as you can carry, and NO, you can not take this truck loaded to the gills with everything you can think of. You can't take a horse drawn wagon, or even a horse. Not even a dog. You're the only live thing that gets a ride. You couldn't even take lice in your hair if you had 'em.
"You can have a two-wheeled dolly with pneumatic tires, but that's all the wheels you get."
"What about my air seat, I just bought it? Can I take my airseat?"
"Hell, if you want to carry that heavy bastard all around Stone Age Europe knock yourself out."
"Well, I ain't leaving tonight am I?"
"No. You get six weeks to put/get your shit together."
"Well, I was wonderin' about time to have my chair modified. I sure as hell can't carry any air compressor along so I might as well get rid of the air-ride part. Is it all right if I put some casters on it? Do they count as wheels?"
"Well, they are wheels, but I don't see where that would hurt a bit. Sure, put all the casters on your air-seat you want to. Just don't think you can get by with wheelchair type wheels. You can only add casters."
"You specifically said I couldn't have a horse, does that mean there ain't any where I'm going?"
"Naw, there's plenty of horses. They're wild though."
"What about guns."
"You damned sure better bring at least one. The cave men ain't gonna welcome you with open arms. Keep those fuckers in mind at all times, 'less you want to fight 'em off with a sharp stick."
"Fire, that's it, fire. I'm gonna have to build a lot of fires by and by ain't I? Can I take plenty of Bics?"
"Now you're getting in the spirit. Don't worry about takin' a hundred thousand lighters. I'll make you a present of a real nice Zippo with a wick and flint that'll last forever and it won't never run out of fluid neither. Just make damned sure you don't lose it."
"How much ammunition can I take."
"You gotta name your own poison there. You get to take anything and everything you can think of and also carry. You got the two-wheel dolly and I guess your chair to pile things on. You can cheat a little since all you have to do it get the stuff onto the platform we load it from, and it ain't uphill or nothing."
"And there will be people?"
"It ain't like you can go to a bar and pick up a chick or nothing. There will be some people scattered around. Maybe you'd better read up a little on Neanderthal and Cro-Magnon man. Let me warn you though, the scientist on earth don't have things exactly right so far.
"Now, go back to sleep. You got freight to move in the morning."
Fucker was gone then, but I did find a printed transcript of what we'd talked about with a date six weeks from now in big letters.
That morning I unloaded at a grocery warehouse, called my dispatcher to give him a cussing and tell him to never put me on another grocery load.
"I guess you can sit a while then. A load to the HEB warehouse in San Marcos is all I've got right now," Steve, my day dispatcher said, but I knew the bastard was lying.
I didn't mind so bad when Connie, the night girl, lied to me, cause she let me pat her on the ass to make up for it when I stopped by the terminal. Steve didn't get that kind of respect though. I didn't even want to pat his bony ass. His tits weren't much to speak of either.
"Yeh, I could sit on my ass a couple of days up here on Manhattan Island. Or,"
"Or what?" Steve asked.
"Or I can drive my damned truck home and let you come out and haul some freight yourself you lying son-of-a-bitch. You do remember I paid cash for my truck don't you jackass?"
"Let me look a little closer and see if I can't find something better for you."
"I'll tell you what to look for. Look for someone to help you get your head out of your ass and then look for another truck and driver. You ain't dumb enough to think you're the only one with freight to haul are you?"
"Butt is close, but asshole is more like it. I'll call you later and tell you where I dropped your reefer, unless I lose it on the way home," I said, and hung up.
I wasn't really mad at Steve, or at least not any madder than usual. After my chat with Rosco I had things to do and people to see, and none of it involved doodling freight from an asshole shipper to an asshole receiver. Hell, right now I didn't give a shit if every grocery store in the US ran out of food. I had enough to last me six week at the house.
All the whole trip from New Your City to Atlanta Texas I went over in my mind what I'd need to get hold of for doing what amounted to living in the woods.
I knew how to hunt and fish and I even raised a small garden every year so I wasn't so worried about food. I did wish I'd bargained for getting my heart and everything else fixed right when I signed on though. It would make things easier while I was running around all over trying to collect my crap.
When I made it to Nashville I had to pull in to a truck stop and get some sleep. Twenty-four hours of driving was about my limit without a hit of something and that shit was out for good with the advent of on the spot piss testing. After I got parked I walked in my sleeper and put on my nightgown.
"So, you want to go ahead and get patched up now?" Rosco asked into my head, waking me up and causing me to bolt upright in the bunk.
"It would probably be easier for me get around doing this other stuff."
"It will also mean you can't back out after it's done," Rosco said.
"Back out's ass. I've been dreaming about that big dick you promised me for the last six hours."
"That's something we just can't understand. Our studies indicate that a larger penis doesn't really make sex any better for the man with it or the women he uses it on."
"Well then, if I was you I wouldn't have my dick enlarged. I ain't you though and I want mine big around as a coke can and twicet as long. Better pump my balls up a little too so it all looks like a matched set."
"This will take about thirty hours. No one will notice or bother your truck while it's here. When you get home no one who knows you will notice the difference, but anyone who doesn't know you will see you as you actually are."
"Suits the hell out of me. Let's get on with it."
Thirty hours later I was back in my sleeper in Nashville and hungry as hell. I thought I was temporarily fucked for a minute when I tried to put the same jeans I'd been wearing back on, but then I noticed a new pair in my closet and there was a new Rodeo shirt hanging there too. I even found a new belt like my old one, with my name on the back and all, and my big silver and gold Grand Champion Bull Riding buckle had already been put on the new belt. Losing that buckle would have pissed me off to the max. I paid a broke up skinny cowboy fifty bucks for it.
There was a brand new pair of Cowboy boots too, complete with a riding heel like I always bought. The fit my new, slightly longer, feet perfectly. The last little new present I found was the gold Zippo Rosco had promised. I tried it and it lit the first time. It was perfect too.
After dressing I unassed my Kenworth and headed across the parking lot and into the truck stop heading for the restaurant. I stopped to piss in the bathroom and when I hauled out my new dick even I was impressed. At first I was afraid it would hang down into the water in the urinal. It surprised me to figure I'd have to learn how to handle my new dick and mostly for mundane reasons.
I stopped in the store part and bought a fresh box of Skoal before heading into the cafe. You think I don't know it's a nasty habit? I'm the one that puts it in my mouth. I'd been happy as a pig in shit when Rosco'd told me I'd never have to worry about cancer or anything like that with my new body.
That went for my diet, which had nearly laid me low too. I could now eat anything I wanted and not have to worry about ill effects later. I was thinking about four fried eggs, sausage, biscuits, gravy, and hash browns when I saw my waitress heading toward me.
She smiled real big when she got to me and whipped out her pen and pad as I started giving my order. Rose was a pretty little thing with nice titties and a cute round ass. I couldn't help reaching out to pet it while it wiggled as she wrote. She just looked at me, smiled really big, and said, "I get off in an hour."
Damn, Rosco must have made me handsome or something too while he was at it. Rose was sweet as pie when she brought my food and she wiggled hell out of her ass for me to watch as she was going back to bring the coffee pot to pour me a refill.
After eating I paid my ticket to Rose with a hundred and told her to keep the change. I ain't no fool. I wanted to make sure she didn't get lost after work. VD was one of the things Rosco specifically mentioned I couldn't catch.
When we left and went back to my truck Rose was impressed as we got there. Any gal who had worked long in a truck stop would have been. With a ninety-six in sleeper it had to be my own truck because no company would buy a driver anything like that.
We didn't waste much time with foreplay or even foreconversation. Once we were in the back we did a little kissing and hugging and I did a little preliminary fondling before working Rose out of her waitress uniform.
Her titties were big and fat with thick, plump, and soon enough hard nipples. She was wearing a thong to almost cover some of the tidy bush with the same dark auburn hair as her drapes and she had the cutest bunch of freckles scattered over her wobbling titties.
Rose nearly bolted when she uncovered my new dick, but of course she didn't know it was new. She was clearly worried about having that club shoved up her though.
"It'll fit sweetie. It's not even nearly as big as a baby," I said.
"I've never had a baby either. That damned thing is huge."
"I know it, but I've been working with it all my life and I know how to take it easy at first," I said, lying but knowing it would sound a lot more nearly true than the real story.
It took nearly an hour of kissing, sucking, fingerfucking, and licking before Rose was convinced and hot enough to take a chance. She spread her legs wide then and as I settled between them she took hold to steer the progress.
The progress was damned sure slow, but steady too. When I finally had it all the way up her we were both happy and I knew Rosco and his fishy friends didn't have a good handle on what the large dick would do. I knew damned well it felt a lot better to me than my last one had.
Rose spent the last fifteen minutes of our first fuck moaning for me to pound her harder and faster. When she got off she seemed to vibrate in pleasure for five minutes. Rosco and his buddies had given me a big set of balls to match, but at least they hadn't gone nuts with the output and when I discharged my weapon it only seemed like a little more come than usual.
"Jesus God," Rose said, about fifteen minutes later after she'd caught her breath, "I'll never get over that fuck in time to get to work in the morning."
"Fuck a bunch a work."
"That sounds good too, but sooner or later I'll have bills to pay."
"Are you married, kids?"
"No. Never been married or pregnant. Hell, I don't even have any relatives."
"Where do you live?"
"In a tiny house just outside of town. It took me two years to start earning enough to move into it. I haven't lived there long."
"Is the road big enough to get my truck there?"
"I think so. Why?"
"I was gonna drive you home."
"That would be a God send. My car's broke and I had to catch a ride to work. A taxi home would cost more than I usually make a night."
"Let's go to your house then, how about it?"
"You're driving, or you can be if you put your pants on."
It wasn't far to Rose's house and it was tiny. Inside it was easy to see she hadn't lived there long. It was neat and tidy, but it was damned near empty too.
Her bed was nice and firm though and we drifted off to sleep after we rolled down each other's socks again.
Movement on the bed woke me just before sunrise the next morning. Rose was headed to the bathroom. I acted like I was still asleep when she came out and she came over and shook my shoulder.
"Up and at 'em cowboy. I have to go to work in a while. Any chance you can give me another good one after some coffee?"
"You can bet your ass on that, but you're not going to work. It'll take us an hour or more to pack your things into my trailer, but we can get married in Memphis about noon."
"Married. You haven't even asked me yet."
"I know, but I had to explain why you weren't going to work. Will you marry me?"
"I don't guess it'll hurt nothing. I'm not gonna lie and tell you I'm in love with your or anything like that to get to do it though. Then again, you already know I'll give it up so that's a point in my favor."
"When you're right, you're right. Now, about that coffee."
She gave me two cups of coffee, a good piece of pussy, and after a short rest we started packing. Rose pointed out a few things she said weren't worth carrying along but I wouldn't let her leave them.
"I've go my portable cold storage right outside. It's forty-eight feet long and one hundred and two inches wide with an eight-foot ceiling. No sense in leaving anything that's yours here. You can throw it away in Texas later if you want."
When we got to Memphis, Rose said she'd just as soon wait until we were in Texas to get married. We pulled up into my yard around eight that night. Tomorrow we'd have to sign some papers and get blood test and three days later we could get married. Tonight we went directly back to the honeymoon.
After we were fucked out I did the log trick, but that damned Rosco came around, probably before my second good snore.