Chapter 2

It was a restless sleep, not wanting to disturb either boy, staying on my back with Doogan snuggled up and drooling on my chest. It made me wonder how it might have been, having kids of my own. I pictured the exact sleeping arrangements in a tent camping, but clothed, of course. To each his own, but sex with my own flesh and blood, well, not fathomable.

I came close to marriage once, even having the date set and the invitations sent out. We lived together for a year. She started showing her true feminine nature after the first ring was installed. She hated my career, I was always in shit when I was home, and the blow-jobs became a thing of the past!

Phase two of the ring could only lead to a disastrous relationship, I prophesized. Taking the twenty-some-odd thousand dollars from our joint account, I put a down-payment on Annabelle. It was love at first sight. She purred like a kitten when I was inside her on our first date, and the many subsequent dates that followed. I ended up eloping with her and never looking back.

The break of dawn gradually illuminated the interior of my mobile condo. Time to hit the road, but not before a piss that had my cock rock hard. Attempting not to disturb the peaceful slumber of the boy enveloping my body was futile. His eyes opened bright as the daylight and he smiled at me.

Why waste a perfectly good boner? I thought, placing a hand on his head and lowering it under the sheet.

Doogan got the message, held me firmly at the base and took the initiative without verbal encouragement. Directing his free hand to my gonads, he caught on to that as well, kneading them gently.

Perhaps it was my moaning in ecstasy that awoke Branden, who looked over his shoulder bleary eyed at me, then I suppose it was the rise and fall of the sheet that caught his attention that caused him roll back his eyes, shake his head and resume his slumber. I fed Doogan his protein breakfast, afterward, we both went out for a long piss and a short dip in the lake.

Annabelle was always a bitch to get motivated in the morning, but she came to life after protest and as usual, realized her role in our relationship after she warmed up, becoming submissive to her man. She didn't have far to go, the Husky House truck-stop, five miles west, with locations across Canada and the best damn cholesterol rich breakfasts that only dear old mom could top!

The kids were safe walking into the restaurant with me. Being a regular for so many years and a man who was fortunate enough to have had many nephews in his company during all that time, hardly an eyebrow was raised. They devoured the 'truckers special, ' three eggs; bacon; sausage; hash-browns and pancakes, downed by milk and orange juice.

Doing the oodles of laundry while the boys played video-games took a lot longer than my schedule permitted. Taking advantage of the idle time, I took the boys to shower in the charged for, public facility that all truck-stops offered.

Never being renovated as so many others had been, privacy was not an option. sixteen shower stalls with only a plastic curtain temporarily shielded one while actually showering, but the open area to undress and dress was exactly that, open!

Well know was it's reputation as a male "friendly" place. A nod at another guy would find him within the close quarters behind the curtain. I enjoyed a few encounters with nice looking men if fate had it, but never the obese truckers that didn't turn my crank with their dicks hidden in a mound of blubber.

It was a busy time of the morning, we had to wait for an available stall. Naked men were plentiful, undressing, dressing, toweling off or shaving. I noticed one shower stall with four feet displayed in the gap between the curtain and the floor. The scene soon changed to a pair of knees between two feet. The stigma of machismo that truckers are immune to such activity is a fallacy.

Branden had issues with getting naked in front of so many people, Doogan stood in the buff uncaring, staring at the assortment of men that God didn't create equally. At the last second, Brandon pulled off his shorts and scooted into the shower, with me dragging a reluctant Doogan behind me. It was certainly cramped, but we made do washing each other, indiscriminate of where our hands happened to venture.

Three hours later I was back on the road with clean, fresh smelling boys and clothes. Both changed their underwear at my suggestion and stayed in that dress, much to my satisfaction. No need to stop for lunch, having bought several sandwiches at the truck-stop, I could make up precious time.

They entertained themselves, first by sitting in the cab taking in the novelty of riding high above in a semi, hanging out the window waving at people, their asses innocently joined together at the hips. Picturing the same erotic scene of them naked with their rumps sported for my viewing enjoyment almost made me take the liberty of insisting on it.

I didn't have too! Mooning pedestrians and vehicles being passed was Branden's idea. They got quite a kick out of that, so did I, getting a partial frontal view between sessions. Two bare asses hanging out the window must have been a sight to see, my eyes watered in laughter, blurring the road ahead.

Becoming bored with that, they each shared an ear bud listening to music from some kind of devise that Branden retrieved from his backpack. Heads mashed together, propped in the passenger seat, even I could hear the din from the extreme volume that both their heads bobbed in sync.

Doogan fell asleep with his head resting on the door. Branden stared ahead gazing at the scenery and listening to his music with both ear buds planted for maximum effect, a bare foot raised and pressed against the console. Admiring his profile, with his his white hair hair tucked behind a smallish ear and the perfect slant of his nose, I studied the rest of him for perhaps the first time.

He was a boy used to hard work judging by his sun bronzed upper arms and chest, full thighs and calves that hadn't been exposed to the same ultraviolet rays. Even his foot was beautiful, long in proportion to his size with slender toes, the nails in need of a manicure. I imagined his mom's endless plight to maintain him in fitting shoes.

Getting his attention by tossing an empty pop can at him, startled, he removed one ear piece and looked at me questioningly.

"Come over here, sport." I motioned for him to sit on the dog-house beside me.

"What?" he asked, struggling to spread his legs wide due to the cramped space, perfect for my objective to insert my right hand up his shorts and fondle him.

"Thought ya might like a hand-job, that's all."

He didn't answer, but was responding to my stimulation of him. Hauling it out of the leg, I spit in my hand and stroked him to full mast, then vigorously pumped the fuck out of the stunning fat six inches of manliness disproportionally mounted on a fourteen year old boy. He laid back over the dog-house, supported on his elbows and allowed me full physical and visual access to his bouncing balls. Sore wrist and about ten-minutes later, a geyser spewed at least two feet in the air and arched landing on his chest. Each subsequent volley lessened in intensity, leaving an ivory white trail down to his belly-button, the balance flowed over my fingers, definitely exceeding the previous night's rupture in my mouth.

Licking my fingers clean, I wondered again how it could possibly taste so unique in comparison to the pints of the shit consumed from others. I made a mental note to do a taste test with Doogan. Surely the boy could cum at his stage of development, he just might not be aware of it yet.

"Your turn, volcano boy!" Raising my ass and pulling down my gym shorts, my cock rebounded with a smack against my belly.

Siting up, but before he could lean in to return the favor, I scooped more of the liquid gold in one swipe up his stomach to his chest, sampling a little more before lacing my cock in it. Brandon slid closer, I put my arm around his shoulders and let him curiously explore his first sexual contact of another male's anatomy. Changing my mind of expectations, I easily directed the back of his head lower.

That pleased me to no end, fully expecting minor resistance to contend with. It was one thing to get a blow-job or even fuck another guy, however subjecting yourself to the fullest conjectures of gaydom is sometimes traumatic, I found of youth.

I won't go as far as to say Branden was enthusiastic about sucking my cock, simply, he knew that he had no choice in the matter, it's called survival. No doubt he was hoping that Doogan had become the scape-goat, and once he got a taste of it, our shared sex-toy. Even once we part company, he would probably continue to use his slow-minded pal as a sexual outlet.

Branden did get an 'A' for effort. I honored his request not to cum in his mouth, a sacrifice on my part not extended to many, but feeling a trust and respect was to be established. Instead, tight lipped and eyes squinted, his face served to both, prevent a messy cleanup, and excite me seeing my jism running down his face when he looked up at me in a silent plea to be relieved of duty and clean himself.

Just then, a thin string that hung from his right eyebrow swaying like a pendulum, unfortunately found its way into his eye. Knowing that painful, burning sensation, he had my sympathy.

Branden had a bad case of red-eye. Stopping for dinner at a truck-stop noted for their homemade lasagna, I ran across the street to the pharmacy and bought Visine eye-drops before proceeding another hundred miles, then ten miles off the beaten-track to yet another reclusive lake side Eden.

Sending the boys to scour for firewood, we enjoyed a beach side, crackling blaze and my famous wienies wrapped in Pop & Fresh Dough, skewered on long branches, and roasted over the fire. A late night swim in the tepid waters, we watched a lightning storm develop to the south-west that quickly moved in and lit up the lake like daylight, thunder rumbled in the distance, growing in intensity.

There was no question of sleeping arrangements or dressing for the occasion or that sex would be on the agenda. Not purposely leaving Doogan out of the fun, Branden and I just kind of found ourselves side-by-side in a heated sixty-nine. Perhaps he had discovered his sexuality. Mimicking my moves, his tongue played wonders over my cock and balls, burying his head and stopping just short of my pucker.

I sucked and licked his gateway to virginity loss, his leg over my head, hips thrusting forward as if he thought my tongue could be planted deeper and I was holding back on him! Rolling him onto his belly reluctantly forgoing his onslaught of my genitals, I literally ate him. Biting, sucking, licking, pulling his cock and balls back to be included in the melee, ravishing them, making love to him!

Encouraging me was his overall demeanor that seemed lost in oblivion, panting, groaning, cussing, all in erotic appreciation especially when a finger found his 'happy place' that I learned over the years was a fifty-fifty chance of sexual gratification being employed by its stimulation. He wouldn't have even known that such a foreign place housed such blissful pleasure until then.

He came. Unprepared for it, I felt it on my hand letting it flow forward and not interrupting my manipulations of instigating his orgasm to its fullest potential. My gut instinct strongly suggested that it was powerful. Never before had I wanted to please someone in such an unselfish manner.

His whole body quivered uncontrollably with convulsions-like fervor, hands jetted forward, pulling off the fitted sheet from the mattress into a tangled mess under his chest. For a moment, I thought he was experiencing an epileptic seizure, and not an orgasm. Even Doogan showed concern, scurrying up the bed to look at his friend, "Is you 'kay, Brandy?"

"Oh fuck, yeah!" was the very satisfied, heavy breath response.

Assured by the glorious news that he was okay, and the way in which he responded, my dick was already greased for the premeditated event that got side-tracked by the boy's reaction.