I picked him up in an isolated stretch of highway south of Oklahoma City. He was in the middle of nowhere and I would have stopped even if he wasn't the hunkiest stud I had ever seen hitchhiking.

"He's probably straight," I thought to myself as he climbed in the cab.

"I'm going to Houston," he said.

"Going to be there eventually myself after a few other stops. I'm John," I introduced myself, as I put the rig in gear and we headed off down the highway.

"I'm Brett," he replied. "I'm on the way home for the summer," he added.

"How did you end up here in the middle of nowhere?" I asked him, as we got up to speed.

"I had a ride with a female trucker and she thought that giving me a ride meant that I had to give her one. She was extremely pissed off when I told her I was gay. She went off into a tirade about how all of the good-looking guys in the country were fucking fags. She slammed on the brakes and told me to get out. If you have any problem with me being gay you can stop the truck and I'll get out right now," he went on.

My cock had been straining against the confines of my jeans ever since I saw him on the side of the highway.

He glanced at my crotch, grinned, and said, "Well, I guess it's obvious that you don't have a problem with me being gay, but that doesn't mean I'm going to have sex with you," he warned me.

"There are no strings attached to me giving you a ride," I assured him, "but I have to admit, you're probably the best-looking stud I've seen in a long time and I'd love to swing on your cock. But that's up to you. I'm a good bit older than you and a hell of a lot more weather-beaten and I'm probably not your type."

"Actually since you mentioned it, you are my type. You're more mature blue collar guy with craggy good looks and a hell of a good build, from what I can tell. I like that, but I've had some terrible experiences with guys who looked like you but turned out to be sadistic sons-of-bitches.

We left that subject and talked about other things for the next couple of hundred miles. We laughed and argued about sports, politics and religion and found that we had a lot interests in common. Sex was never mentioned, but it was ever in the back of my mind and probably his too.

I pulled into a small truck stop outside of Marietta, Oklahoma, and after we gassed up we had lunch. He insisted on paying for lunch and I let him. All we did was talk, and although the place was full, we were hardly aware of anyone but ourselves.

When we walked back to the rig I gave him a tour of the housing module with the shower, TV, kitchen, office and bedroom. Brett was suitably impressed.

"All the comforts of home," I said as I turned to go outside. Well, lets get this show back on the road."

"John", I heard him say, as I felt his arms slid under mine and embrace me. The bulge made by his hard cock pressed into the crack of my ass.

"Are you sure about this, Brett?" I asked him, recalling his receent tirade against some father figure types.

"Yes" he replied, very definitely.

Without a word we stripped each others clothes off there in the sleeping quarters of my rig. His hard 6½ inches cut cock and my 7-inch uncut cock stood straight up in the air.

His cock mesmerized me like a cobra. It was beautiful and was its own invitation to me to service it with my mouth. A drop of clear thick pre-cum had oozed out of his over­sized piss slit, and as I licked his cock head I tasted its saltiness. I dropped to my knees and wrapped my wet mouth around his warm, meaty cock head and gently slid my lips up and down his crown.

He pushed on the back of my head and arched his hips, driving his cock down my throat. I took it all and followed his hips as they retracted, keeping his cock deep in my throat.

"Oh yeah man, take it all!" he cried.

He held my head still and ground his hips in my face. I drew my lips back up his shaft and he arched his hips as I went down again. He wanted my mouth and I wanted his cock and we went on with this half fuck, half suck routine for a few minutes.

"That's great man, you're a good cocksucker." he told me.

I let his cock slip out of my mouth, ran my wet tongue down his loose ball sac and slipped both of his balls in my mouth. I sucked on them as I stroked his cock.

"I want to suck your cock, man. Sit on my chest and feed it to me," he requested of me.

He loved getting his mouth fucked and it showed. I slid off the edge of the bed and pulled him around until his head was hanging over the edge. I pointed my cock at his mouth and he opened wide. I didn't slide it in, instead I wacked his face with my hard cock.

"You want my cock?" I demanded.

He reached back with his arms, grabbed my butt cheeks and pulled me forward trying to get my cock in his mouth.

"Yeah man, I want your cock. Please let me have it," he pleaded.

I would almost let him have it and would draw back, then let him taste the tip and draw back until he was totally frustrated.

"Please stick your cock down my throat. I want it so bad. Please"

I dropped to my knees, covered his mouth with mine and we French kissed for what seemed like hours but was really only minutes. We broke the kiss.

He looked at me and said, "Please."

I stood up, pushed my cock in his mouth and slowly-mouth fucked him as I leaned over his torso and sucked on his cock. He writhed and moaned and groaned as I fed him my cock and I did the same as I serviced his cock with my mouth. We were not at this long until we both came almost simultaneously and filled each other's mouth with our cum. We swallowed cum and sucked on each other's cocks until we both became flaccid.

We got up off the bed and he initiated a French kiss which was more erotic than the first one curiously enough.

He said, "Thanks man, I needed that."

I looked his eyes of his, cupped his cheeks with my hands and said, "Not as much as I did," and I kissed him tenderly one more time.

"We've got to move on down the road. Let's shower and get dressed," I said, getting back to business.

Ten minutes later we were on the road again.. For the next half an hour we didn't say much. I was almost as if we were each in our own way evaluating what had just happened between us.

You aren't sorry are you?" I asked.

He looked at me and said, "For what?"

"Because we had sex."

"Naw, man that was great. I expected to have to put out to someone if I hitchhiked. I just didn't expect to like it. But I started it. It wasn't something you forced on me. I like you, and that makes all the difference," he explained.

"I like you too, and if we're going all the way to Houston together that's a good thing," I told him.

"I hope we're going all the way," he said. He smiled, laid his head back and went to sleep.

As the tires rumbled across the unending blacktop, I thought to myself, "Yep, we're going all the way!"