Heavy Haulage Ch. 1

He looked incredibly good naked. "Hurry up son, Get your fucking clothes on an make scarce afore some fucker turns up." He sniffed at himself. "Fucking hell son, I smell like t' back wall of t' warehouse with yer piss all over me. I'm off for fucking shower, quick." That brought a smile to Steve's face as he pulled his jeans on, tucking his filthy balled boxers into the back pocket. They'd make a good souvenir. Bill stuck his piss-dampened legs into his scruffy work trousers pulled them up, zipping his flies, as Steve finished dressing. They slipped on their high viz waistcoats, and replaced their hard hats. Bill offered him a fag and lit it for him. He puffed out a big cloud of smoke. Without a word he walked over to the door control, flipped the key and stabbed the 'open' button. Finally, he slammed shut the back doors of the Iveco, jumped into the cab and drove out of the loading bay.

Steve followed him out on foot, wondering what he was going to say to him to conclude the experience. With the truck's engine still running, Bill jumped out, pressed the button to close the shutter doors, then retrieved his operating key from the outside control panel with a satisfied grunt. He ambled over to Steve with his usual stupid grin back on his face, "I'll say this for thee lad, tha's a good fuck for a lorry driver." To Steve's surprise he slipped his big shovel hand around the back of his neck, gripped him tight, and planted a firm, wet kiss on his mouth, the brims of their hardhats clashing together. His stubble rasped against Steve's face and he could smell his piss as he pulled back. "Right, that's tha lot, lad, tha's shot thee fucking bolt. Tha can piss off back to the rest of the thick Brummy cunts now."

Steve had somehow expected something more in the way of a goodbye, maybe even an offer to get together again. Bill was having none of it however, climbed into the Iveco, released the air brakes and eased out the clutch. He stopped after a couple of yards and leaned his rugged face out of the window and grinned at Steve, standing like a statue with his mind virtually blank. Bill called to him, "Well don't just stand there gawping lad, get thesen home. Go on, fuck off." He raised his eyebrows mischievously and drove off kicking up a cloud of dust as he bounced the Iveco over the dirt towards the exit onto the main road.

Steve shook his head with amazement and started his stroll back to the lorry. He walked slowly and waddled slightly, walking with his legs apart to ease his rather sore arse. In addition, he could feel a few lumps and bruises starting where Bill had punched him. He could still feel the sensation of Bill's rough hands roaming over him, the taste of his cock, the feel of it inside him, and the smell of his warm sweaty flesh. He got back to his Cab, climbed into the drivers seat, gingerly easing down his sore behind. A quick rummage in the glove box produced a packet of Marlboros and he tapped one out and lit up using the cab's lighter. He took a deep drag and savoured the rush of nicotine into his blood stream, blowing out smoke in thin blue streams.

He idly wondered if his experience was just some sort of delusion, but his sore arse thankfully reminded him that it wasn't. He fired up the diesel to set off back to the truckers' hotel for a good night's rest before heading back early next morning. He drove out having one last look at the site through the chain link fencing. He'd had shag or two in his time, some good, some bad, but Bill definitely fitted in to the top ten. He caught a glimpse of his driver's sheets for the last couple of days against the dash. All said and done, he couldn't help but smile, thinking that he'd seen a few more loads dropped in the last couple of days than he'd planned.

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