Truckin Foreskin

Ken Varden felt his nerves begin to loosen up as he pulled onto the interstate and headed for home. Others complained about commuting, he knew, but for him it was always relaxing, particularly the homeward run. There was always the promise of a short stop at the rest area midway in his drive, and that meant the possibility of meeting someone. It was far from the best way of doing it and sometimes he felt cheapened by it, aching cock and hungry mouth meeting, a few hurried strokes and the taste of cum; but it was the best way of bringing himself down from a hectic day at work when it happened. And it did happen often enough to keep his hunger fairly well satisfied. Someday "true love" would come along, he figured...if only he could figure out what the hell that meant!

As he drove, he flashed through his mind the faces of those he could remember: a couple of truckers, John and Bob (whatever their real names were), a couple of locals, the two guys from someplace down south, the black guy who gave him his first taste of dark meat...There were more, of course, and he smiled to himself when he realized that the only ones he really remembered were those who were not cut, and all others seemed to blur together into one.

For some reason he couldn't explain, he'd had a hangup about that ever since. He had always resented having been circumcised. So much so, that at one time he had contemplated taking the life of the doctor who had mutilated him. That had been a rash and wild dream, to be sure, but his frustration only grew when he learned that the old man was already dead. That was probably the reason he tended to gravitate toward uncut partners. Even back in the days before he had really understood the forces that were at work within him, he had felt drawn to guys whom he knew had foreskin. He supposed now he had felt he was sharing with them in their foreskins and in that way made up for the loss of his own. He even tried to figure out how the word came into being, remaining ignorant of the origin despite his efforts. But it hooded the crown of manhood...and that intrigued him to no end. He envisioned the sprawling body of a young man clad only in his unbuttoned shirt with his half erect cock, the gleaming head cloaked in a long foreskin and his own groin would stir and swell at the thought. He imagined his fingers encircling the shaft and drawing the naturally lubricated sheath back from the smooth, pink bulbous head and his lips pressing around the cockhead that was perpetually bathed in natural male secretions. His cock instantly pulsed at the thought.

He sighed out loud. They, foreskins were getting to be pretty rare birds these days and, unless one was willing to settle for a regimen of old men, one had to take what one could get. There wasn't much to do but hope for the best and maybe he would get what he wanted. Still, he could do what he could. He had such a hunger down inside him for the taste of a juicy uncut cock it was difficult to satisfy.

One day while he was sitting on the john at the rest area he began to read the messages scribbled on the wall. Rather impulsively, he took out his pen and wrote a message of his own:

"WANTED - WELL HUNG STUD WITH FORESKIN"

It had been there for months now, off and on, sometimes it got scrubbed away by the old man who worked as attendant, but always he wrote it back. Someone would answer and he would wait. Sometimes the guy showed and they made it, sometimes he waited in vain, and there were times when he had just driven off without bothering.

Once, in answer to: "I'VE GOT WHAT YOU WANT - SUCK IT DRY,"

He waited until the indicated time of midnight and then blew his cool. The dude who showed up and stood outside the door rubbing at his crotch with an absolute air of desperation, was the young minister from the Baptist church he belonged to but never attended. He felt something akin to panic. No, he thought, the town was too small for that, but now, thinking back, it was a good thing to know. If he ever got religious he would know where to go.

What he really wondered was, would it pay off today? He felt his nerves twitch as he thought about it. It was Friday and someone had written in reply to his message.

"BE HERE FRIDAY AT 6 PM"

He glanced at his watch. Fifteen minutes to go. He had timed it just right and the rest area was coming up fast, just a couple of more miles ahead. Finally he saw it as he rounded the curve and entered the off ramp. All around him the afternoon sun stretched brilliant fingers to the autumn colors of the trees on the surrounding hillsides. He pulled into a stall near the little building and came to a stop.

He waited. He knew these places sometimes got hot and it was wise to take a little time to look things over and get the feel of it before making a move of any kind. He also took other precautions and kept his dash littered with roadmaps, paper cups, boxes of tissue, all the paraphernalia of a person who travels a lot and which would help allay any suspicions.

There were several semi's parked over in the truck area and a couple of cars down the line from him. He got out of his car, stretched, looked around for a moment, then went into the john and used the facilities, there was no one inside so he came back out, went to the water fountain and took a long drink. He looked around again, then went and sat down on the bench. As he did so, one of the cars started up and drove away. It was probably one of the truckers, he thought, and wondered if he would be worth waiting for, or if it would be another disappointment. It was frustrating to wait and then be turned off by the guy who showed up. God knew he wasn't asking for something out of Blueboy, but there were times...

He wasn't just all that bad himself. He had kept the trim runner's body he had developed in high school. His dark hair and skin were still warm with the flush of the youth he had left not too far behind him, and he knew his large, dark eyes were his best asset. Not too bad for 28, he thought. Perhaps a bit effeminate, well not exactly effeminate, but soft.

The other car pulled out and he sat staring vacantly after it as it went down the ramp onto the highway. Then he saw him. He was coming around the front of the trucks over toward the building. He was wearing a faded blue denim workshirt, sleeves rolled back, open a little at the neck showing the glint of a silver medallion against his chest. He wore his jeans tight, but not provocatively so, yet even from the distance it was evident that a blanket thrown around him could not hide the bulge in his jeans.

It was difficult to tell his age, probably in his late twenties or early thirties, but not at all what Ken had been expecting. His softly waving blonde hair offset the angularity of his face and, as he came closer, he gave Ken a slow, but piercing look and went on into the toilet.

He was a tall lanky dude, but his body was solid and hard, seemingly put together of nothing but sinew and muscle, not the kind that come from hard work and have a roughness about the edges that is instantly appealing. And there was that strained hardness about his eyes that was both fascinating and frightening and had made Ken shudder. It was almost as if he had the power to see beyond ordinary human dimensions. His glance had held Ken coolly in its grip, seeming to see and understand everything that was going on inside him.

He was definitely not what Ken had expected and he felt his courage begin to waver. He sat glued to the bench, trembling half in anticipation, half in fright. Should he follow him in?

He decided against it. He might not be the right one and it was best to let him make the first move. They usually showed what they wanted, rubbed their baskets or something. As he sat waiting he wondered what the guy would want, if it would be more than sex, or if he would be one more in a series of truckers who had used him, blew their nuts in his mouth and pulled it out with maybe a gruff thank you or a pat on the ass. But then, those were not the kind who left messages. You only got them by being lucky enough to be there when they drove in with a hard-on, willing and ready to give them a release that was better than jacking off on it alone.

The man came out and walked over to the water fountain without so much as looking in Ken's direction, stooped and took a drink. He stood erect, stretched, putting the beauty of his muscular body on full display, but Ken did not notice. He could not take his eyes from his crotch, where his freshly put away cock was now more evident than ever. He stood at the fountain for long moments, still ignoring Ken, staring off into the distance as if looking at something that only he could see. He's not the one, Ken thought, and a feeling of sadness crept through him. Then, abruptly, he turned, walked over to Ken and stood directly in front of him.

"Are you the foreskin freak?"

Ken blinked and stared back at him. His eyes were non-commital, piercing, knowing. His courage almost left him, but he managed to choke back the words "what are you talking about?" He felt a tiny throb begin in his temples and he imagined suddenly some psycho answering his message only for the purpose of drawing him here to beat him up - or worse. For a moment all he wanted to do was get up and run for his fucking life.

Then he smiled. It was a friendly smile that softened the terrible hardness of his eyes. Ken watched as his hand slid to his crotch and caressed it gently. "Are you afraid?" "No", Ken lied. "Why does everybody think I bite?" Ken hesitated."...it may be your appearance." "Shit!" he said and began to knead the swelling hardness in his crotch. "What the fuck is wrong with me?" "Nothing!" Ken said too quickly. "I mean..." The man laughed and sat down on the bench beside Ken. "I know I frighten people, but I never hurt anybody in my life. Can you believe that?" Ken nodded. "My name's Mike," he said, holding out his hand. Ken took his hand and mumbled, "Ken." His grip was both strong and reassuring. "Okay, Ken," he said, "I know I scare the hell out of you, but if you're the guy who likes lots of foreskin, I've got more than you can handle." Ken only smiled and released his hand. "Shit!" he said again, suddenly, explosively. "What's wrong?" "Why is everybody afraid of me?" "I'm not afraid of you, Mike." "Are you sure? You don't sound that way." "I'm sure," Ken said, not really sure he was. "Well, do you want to go to my truck? We can't do it here." "Won't they think that's kinda weird?" Ken asked, nodding in the direction of the trucks parked near Mike's. "Those guys are all asleep. I already checked them out. Besides, the ones that aren't already got someone..." "Okay." Ken muttered half-heartedly.

He followed Mike to the truck trying to quiet the nagging uncertainty that still kept gnawing at him. He waited until Mike got into the cab and unlocked the door on the rider's side, then climbed up inside. "Shoes off!" Mike said. "Nobody goes up there with his shoes on!" Ken untied his shoes and slipped them off as Mike heaved himself up into the sleeping box. A moment later Ken crawled up beside him. Mike already had his shirt off and was starting on his jeans as Ken began undressing. Ken sat looking at the line of Mike's half swollen cock under the thin cloth of his jockeys. He reached out and ran his finger along the length of it.

Mike smiled and said "Are you disappointed?" Ken smiled and shook his head as Mike reached for him and pulled him into his arms. They kissed eagerly, exploring the deepest reaches and when they broke away Ken lay his head on Mike's shoulder. The silver medal on the chain around Mike's neck caught his eye again and he picked it up in his fingers.

"A St. Christopher's medal? But he's not a saint anymore." "I know," Mike said, "but he protects me." Mike was kissing him again and the warmth and nearness of his body erased his lingering fear. He felt the strength of his fully erect cock pressing against his belly and his own cock was straining at the fabric of his shorts. He reached down and slipped his hand under the waistband of Mike's jockeys and took the long, thick cylinder of flesh in his hand. It was big...damn big! And, Jesus! Mike had more foreskin than any one man had a right to.

Mike's hands were moving over his body, caressing, squeezing. He tugged at Ken's shorts. "Let's get them off," he whispered. In moments they were completely naked, pressed tightly against each other. Ken felt the warmth of Mike's body beneath him, his throbbing cock against his own, and a pair of balls so big he knew he would be lucky to get them both in his mouth at the same time.

He slid down, bent his head into Mike's groin and sucked into his mouth the loose end of his fabulous foreskin, already oozing abundantly with the juices of an uncircumcised cock in heat. Slowly, he pulled the skin back, farther and farther, until the full, plump head was exposed and glistening in the light. He took it into his mouth, tasting the pungent, almost cheesy flavor of it. He felt Mike's hands holding him gently by the head, urging him down, and he let the length of the shaft slowly slide into his mouth and down his throat, deeper and deeper, until his lips touched the cockhairs at the base. Mike moaned deeply in his throat.

"How the fuck can you do that?" Ken didn't answer, did not even take his mouth from Mike's throbbing cock, but braced himself on his elbows above him and began to ride it the length of the shaft, from tip to base and back again and again and again until Mike's body began to writhe beneath him and his hands tightened on his head. Still he went on sucking as if he wanted to pull the manhood from him, out of the deepest corners of his insides down through his cock, but hoping at the same time it would never end. A tremble took hold of Mike's body, beginning slowly but increasing rapidly in tempo until he arched his ass up off the mattress, his muscles strained and tight.

"I'm gonna cum...I'm gonna cum like I never came before!" he said. Quickly, Ken buried it all the way down his throat and held it there as he felt Mike's cock throb and flex as it pumped his cum into him, flooding his throat. He felt himself begin to choke and pulled back a little, but held it tight and kept the suction on full force until he was sure Mike had finished. Then he withdrew and milked the slightly softening cock to squeeze out the last drops of cum and licked them clean.

"Where the fuck did you learn to suck like that?" Ken only looked up and smiled, then sucked Mike's cock back into his mouth, worked the foreskin back down over the head and up around his tongue. He held him that way, running his tongue gently around the head inside until he had gone almost soft. Mike kept on lubricating long after he had shot and Ken loved it. Loved the slippery feeling of it on his tongue, loved the totally masculine taste of it.

He could feel the thick shaft take on life again and begin to swell. With one long pull, he exposed the head and did some heavy tongue work on it until he was nearly fully erect again. He ran his tongue up and down the length of it, over his balls, along the inside of his thighs, up around the edges to his navel and down the other side back to his balls. Slowly he sucked one into his mouth and let it slide out, then the other, back and forth, and finally using his fingers to help he got them both in and gently slid his tongue around them. He could hear Mike moaning and feel the jerk of his cock as it lifted up off his belly and fell back. He let Mike's balls slide out of his mouth and kissed each one in turn.

Ken closed his fist around Mike's cock and squeezed the foreskin all the way forward, forming the loose folds of skin into a thick, puckered rosette. "I know you think I'm weird, but I wish we had some honey to fill this fucker with."

Mike laughed and deliberately made his cock jump in Ken's hand. "All the honey you need comes out the end of it, if you want it again." "I do, but not the same way." "What do you mean?" "Up my ass." "Can you, Ken?" "All of it. I'm ready for it now." "No grease?" "It does that well enough by itself."

They switched positions, getting Ken on the bottom this time as Mike parted his legs and crawled up between them. Ken lifted his legs over his shoulders, offering his ass wide and receptive as the tip of Mike's cock brushed against it. He felt Mike reach down, take hold of it and skin it back, getting ready to go in.

He bit his lip in pain as he felt the broad head open him and press inward, stretching his asshole wide. Slowly it pressed on until he felt Mike's balls come flush up against his ass. Mike stopped moving and rested perfectly still with his huge rod planted firmly up Ken's tight asshole.

Ken began to adjust and his body relaxed, the pain subsiding as he adjusted to the sudden intrusion. A warmth began to spread outward from his groin, filling him with the feeling of completeness he had always longed for. His ass tightened reflexively, squeezing Mike's cock even tighter, then releasing it. Mike was kissing him again, his tongue reaching far into the recesses of his mouth.

Mike's hips began to move slowly, fucking his cock in and out of Ken's body, his balls slapping gently against his ass at the end of each long, unending stroke. A tingling feeling of pleasure began down there as he tightened up with each inward stroke and relaxed as Mike pulled back, sliding his cock in and out of its sheath inside him. Mike's stroking shortened, speeded up, became erratic. Ken felt warm, the tingle of pleasure spreading outward from his ass through his body causing him to shiver and tremble in the wonder of a body orgasm. Mike kept pumping, moving in and out, then suddenly gasped, groaned, thrust himself all the way in and stopped, the muscles of his body straining and jerking. Ken could feel the pulsing of the massive cock inside him as the cum boiled up, sped down the length of it and spewed out into his insides, warm and soothing.

Mike's body relaxed, and as he lowered himself down, Ken pulled his legs from his shoulders and locked them around his waist. He could feel Mike's cock still in him, no longer rigid, but swollen and jerking spasmodically in the throes of after-orgasm. They lay that way for a long time, the skin of their bodies glued together, slippery with sweat, Mike's cock slowly shrinking and withdrawing until nothing remained inside him but the long length of foreskin. Finally Mike raised himself and lay down beside Ken. He reached into a small compartment and withdrew a towel, hastily wiped himself and offered it to Ken.

Then he took Ken's chin in his hand and kissed him gently on the lips. "Ken, you're more than I had hoped for." "You are too, Mike," Ken said. He thought, more than you know. He could jack off for months thinking about this. "But how do I get you off?" David shrugged. "I don't care." "I don't want you to be unsatisfied." "I'm satisfied." "That's not what I mean," Mike said. He buried his head in Ken's neck, kissing it lightly, hugging him tight. They were silent for a moment, the Mike said.

"I know. Turn on your side facing me." Ken did as he was told and Mike reached down and took hold of his still throbbing cock and brought the bare head of it up to his own. He began working his foreskin over Ken's cockhead and down his cockshaft, farther and farther, until only about an inch and a half remained at the base of his seven plus.

"Help me, Ken, get hold of the end and pull it down the rest of the way. It'll stretch that far, but it won't stay. I want to feel you all the way inside the way you took me."

Ken shuddered. The feeling of having Mike's foreskin encasing his own cock, clinging to it, almost made him lose his load right there. He fought it back, took the end of the foreskin in his fingers and pulled. It made it, he was completely inside it! He held it for a moment, then released it and slid it back an inch or so. Mike closed his hand around Ken's cock inside his foreskin and kneaded it gently, working up the juices, secreting them onto Ken's cock, making it slippery as oil.

Ken moaned and his body began to shiver again. He closed his eyes. The feeling was indescribable, ecstatic, almost unbearable. He did not know how long he could hold back his boiling cum. Mike continued to massage it, slowly and gently, then stopped, gripped it tight and held it.

"Okay, Ken, fuck for your life! Make me feel it too!" David moved his hips slowly, feeling his cock slide back and forth inside Mike's foreskin, slipping easily in Mike's lubricant as Mike's fist held it tight. He held his speed down, trying to hold back his orgasm, knowing he would not last long inside that heated slimy sheath that gripped both his and Mike's throbbing cockheads. But he couldn't hold it any longer. He felt it well up inside him, tug at his body and explode into the tight confines of Mike's foreskin. Almost instantly he felt the load of cum ooze out of Mike's cockhead, bathing his own in its warm stickiness. They lay still as their cocks both subsided. Mike gently squeezed with his hand, sliding their cockheads around in the slippery mess of their mingled cum.

After they had dressed and climbed back down into the cab, Ken wrote his number on a matchbook and gave it to Mike. As he was crawling down from the cab, he looked back at Mike and said "Call me, Mike, don't just think about it."

"You can bet on it!" Mike replied.

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written by anonymous