Gorilla and the Metalhead Pt. 06

Carlos went to work as usual on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday. Every day he sat at his desk felt like a fucking grind, but band practice on Wednesday night was something to look forward to. Sweet release.

He wanted nothing more than to be a successful musician, to have millions of guys (and girls, too!) lusting after him 24/7, and to never have to set foot inside an office ever again. If his future amounted to sitting at a desk for the rest of his life, he'd rather be dead.

On Wednesday night, he brought in the skeleton of a new song he'd been working on for the band to learn. The tentative title was "Chunky Trucker Man." The lyrics were highly suggestive, and the rest of the band loved it. The bass player and drummer were immediately all over it, building upon the original idea and making it better. Their other guitarist brought in another new tune, and the same thing happened. The start of two new tunes in one night! Carlos was overjoyed to be in this kind of creative environment -- someone brings a fresh idea, and everyone collaborates to lift it up. It was completely different to his day job experience.

They finished rehearsal, stowed their gear and went out for beers. Carlos knew he'd probably be a little late for work the next morning, but he knew all he had to do was wear tight jeans that showed off his junk, and his boss would go easy.

He hadn't heard from Gorilla for a few days, but this time, he wasn't overly concerned. He felt good about where their last conversation had landed, and if he was worried about anything, it was about how many hours Gorilla logged at the wheel. Gorilla's job sounded like it was way too much. Carlos might hate his desk job, but at least he got to work normal hours and slept in the same bed every night.

Late on Wednesday night after band practice, Carlos's phone pinged. A message from Gorilla. He replied immediately.

Gorilla: hey dude what's up

Carlos: awesome to hear from you

Gorilla: likewise

Carlos: had band practice 2nite, we started writing 2 new tunes

Gorilla: can't wait to hear them!

Carlos: so where you at 2nite

Gorilla: i've been on the road for 3 days since we last msged so how far do you think I could've travelled

Carlos: you drove your truck to antarctica didn't you ... you're feeding penguins right now

Gorilla: haha fuck, i wish

Carlos: they don't have roads in antarctica, right

Gorilla: that's the only thing stopping me

Carlos: ok so I'm gonna assume you're not in ATL because I'd be pissed as fuck if you were here and you were texting me from like 2 blocks away

Gorilla: you'd know for sure if i was in your city

Carlos: ok, so three days from new orleans ... fuck, given the amount of time you spend at the wheel, you could be anywhere

Gorilla: I'm not anywhere, I'm somewhere

Carlos: srsly I got no idea

Gorilla: it doesn't really matter, does it ... after a while, all these places start to look the same ... but for the record, I'm somewhere in arkansas and it's boring as fuck here

Carlos: nothing to do there?

Gorilla: I'm not sayin' I'm up for a big night on the town, I need to drive again tomorrow, but it feels fuckin catatonic

Carlos: that bad, huh

Gorilla: remind me never to move here

Carlos: have u checked scruff you never know there might be some frustrated christian redneck somewhere in the neighbourhood who needs a dick in his ass and a reach-around wet handie ... but if that happens can you send me pics

Gorilla: haha if i had time i'd look into that but like i said i'm on the road again tomorrow ... i just wanted to txt you to see how you're doin

Carlos: doin fine here, but kind of miss u a little

Gorilla: kind of miss u 2

Carlos: ring me?

Carlos's phone rang and he pressed the green button. "Hey, Gorilla."

"Hey rockstar."

"Hahaha I wish I was a fuckin' rockstar! Still climbing the ladder one small rung at a time. Nice to hear your voice," said Carlos.

"Yours too, dude."

"So I'm hearing Arkansas is a bit shit?"

"Yeah ... well, maybe it's OK for the people who live here," replied Gorilla, "but I'd never want to live here myself."

Carlos remembered he had no fucking idea where Gorilla lived, but he was enjoying the mystery of not knowing.

"Ah, well, you won't be there for long. Shipping out tomorrow, you said?"

"Yeah," said Gorilla, "heading to Montgomery tomorrow. The weather forecast is good."

"Maybe you'll get some ass there. Here's my tip. Check the apps before you leave, that way you might have someone lined up when you arrive."

"Yeah ... that's what I do sometimes," Gorilla admitted, "but I don't know if I want to do that anymore."

"Why?" asked Carlos.

Gorilla didn't answer the question directly. Instead, he asked one of his own. "Hey dude, are you free on the weekend?"

Carlos had a few things planned, but he was curious. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, because I start tracking back east after this, and by Friday sundown I should be pulling into Jacksonville. If you can get yourself free on Friday and get a ticket on a Greyhound, I could meet you there."

"You're not coming back through Atlanta? I thought we were a transport hub."

"There are lots of transport hubs all over the country. Why do you think I'm on the road so often? If it was that straightforward, I'd probably be a train driver instead. I'll be in Montgomery tomorrow night, but I was thinking if you could make it to Florida, we could make a few days of it."

"You got some downtime when you get there?" Carlos asked.

"One or two days, yeah. And then I'm scheduled to drive from Jacksonville back to Atlanta, which means so long as you're happy riding back with me, you only need a one-way bus ticket."

"Fuck, sounds like a great idea. I'm gonna hang up now and see if I can book a ticket."

"Sounds like a plan, man," said Gorilla. "Hope you're successful. Would be great to see you."

"You too, chunky dude."

They hung up. Five minutes later, Carlos was booked onto a Friday 10am departure from Atlanta, bound for Jacksonville. He texted Gorilla -- 'booked a seat, see you Friday.'

Gorilla read the text message and smiled before hitting the lights. His alarm was due to sound around sunrise.

*

Carlos got to work late on Thursday morning. He told his boss he wouldn't be in on Friday. And maybe not Monday either, he wasn't sure. He made up a tale about a family emergency. Carlos placed a hand into one of the pockets of his jeans. His boss's gaze followed it. He took one look at the tight denim that pouched Carlos's crotch and nodded his head in acquiescence.

Meanwhile, Gorilla rumbled his way from Little Rock to Montgomery. Seven and a half hours at the wheel. He rocked in early evening, unloaded at the warehouse and headed to his digs for the night. After dinner, he checked in with Carlos.

Gorilla: hey man you still good for tomorrow

Carlos: yeah all set, packed some clothes etc

Gorilla: good to hear

Carlos: gonna hit the hay early tonight though, see u 2mrw, don't wanna miss the bus

Gorilla: yep

Lights out.

*

On Friday morning, Gorilla loaded up and headed to Jacksonville, making good time. He estimated he'd be finished for the day around 3pm. He cranked some tunes by A2M on the way out of town.

Carlos didn't hit the hay early last night at all. He stayed up until 2am, listening to metal at ear-destroying levels, drinking beer after beer after beer. His alarm went off on Friday morning and he nearly slept through it. He woke with a start, remembering that he was due on an interstate Greyhound. He got dressed, grabbed his bag, and dragged his sorry, semi-hungover ass to the terminal. He made it just in time to buy a coffee and a pre-packaged cheese salad sandwich before the bus left.

The bus was sparsely populated, and he could sit wherever he wanted. He sat in the very back row. As the bus rolled out of the station, he closed his eyes and slept for an hour or so.

Carlos's eyes prised open again as the bus rolled towards the Atlantic coast. He had a kinky idea. He texted Gorilla.

Carlos: hey dude im on the bus

Gorilla took a while before responding. Probably not safe to be texting while piloting a 42 wheel beast down an interstate at 65 miles per hour. His reply was a simple thumbs up, and Carlos assumed he was busy.

Carlos quietly ate the sandwich he'd brought on board. He could've killed for another coffee.

In the relative quiet and obscurity of the back seat of the bus, Carlos began lightly tickling and teasing his nipples through his t-shirt. He felt them stand erect, and as he glanced down at his chest, he could clearly see them tenting through the fabric. He was thinking about a porn clip he'd cum to a few nights ago, as well as the musty scent of Gorilla's hairy scrotum.

It wasn't long before his cock responded. One of his hands cupped his balls on the outside of his jeans. He closed his eyes. He felt unbelievably horny right now, and he desperately needed to jack off. He knew the bus would be stopping at Savannah for half an hour, which was ample time for him to jerk himself off in the mens' bathroom, but the issue was far too urgent to wait.

Carlos: i need to jack off so bad rn so fkn horny dude

Gorilla: do it

Carlos was hard as a rock knowing that he had Gorilla's attention. Gingerly, he unzipped his jeans and reached inside his boxers. He teased the head of his cock out of his undies. His shaft and balls remained hidden under the fabric, only the head of his penis poked out. He took a close-up pic and sent it to Gorilla.

Somewhere on the road between Little Rock and Montgomery, Gorilla's phone pinged. He opened the message and saw the pic Carlos had sent him. His cock twitched.

Carlos scouted the angles. He made sure none of the other passengers could possibly see him before proceeding. He assumed there were CCTV cameras onboard, but he knew the driver would have much more important things to do than to monitor the sexual deviant at the back of the bus.

Carlos fished his shaft out of his pants and slowly began stroking it. He took another pic and sent it to Gorilla. Just in case anyone else on the bus looked in his direction, he pretended to be fixated on the boring landscape as the bus motored towards the coast.

He placed a video call to Gorilla. Gorilla accepted the call and saw vision of Carlos's erect cock. He knew there was a rest-stop about 3 miles down the road, and he immediately made plans to pull in. He arrived and applied the air brakes.

Gorilla watched as Carlos leisurely stroked his cock. He saw Carlos spit on his hand to lubricate his shaft. He could tell the bus was in motion because the image was a little jerky, and in the corner of the frame, he could see trees and buildings rushing by in a blur. He wanted to talk to Carlos, but thought he should probably remain silent. If he spoke and his voice came through the speaker on Carlos's phone, the game could be up. Just to be sure that didn't happen, he made put his own phone on mute.

Gorilla watched his phone as Carlos's black painted fingernails drew circles around the head of his cock, then divebombed down the length of his shaft. Gorilla saw precum beginning to leak. Carlos's fingers smeared the viscous liquid across the head of his cock and Gorilla knew exactly how electric that felt. He wondered what the end-game was: if Carlos got himself off and his load stained his jeans, it'd be obvious to anyone what he'd done.

Gorilla continued gazing at his phone, completely transfixed. He saw the camera angle move as Carlos picked the phone up. Carlos's face appeared in the frame. He opened his mouth and let his tongue flop out. Carlos refocused the phone back onto his cock, and stream after stream of thick semen dribbled down the side of his cock, pooling around the zip of his jeans. Gorilla saw Carlos's fingers scooping up his warm seed, and the phone traced the path of Carlos's hand as it deposited his cum into his own mouth. Carlos repeated the process two or three more times, and the majority of the evidence was gone. Just after Carlos drooled the third scoop of sperm onto his tongue, he licked his lips, leaving thin streaks of his load on his cheeks. He blew Gorilla an air-kiss.

Carlos ended the call and the screen went black. He felt the bus shudder violently, as if it had been yanked back into its lane by the driver after momentarily drifting off-line.

Gorilla unzipped and pulled his thick piece out of his jeans. He masturbated furiously. He shot his load within twenty seconds of the call ending. His heartbeat was racing.

Fuck, this boy was kinky.

Carlos texted: you like?

Gorilla: I had to pull over

Carlos: sorry for upsetting your journey

Gorilla: you made me cum so fuckin hard

Carlos: mission accomplished

The bus pulled into Savannah so that the driver and his passengers could take a breather. Carlos disembarked. There was a small roadhouse where he purchased a light lunch and a desperately needed coffee. After finishing his lunch, he headed to the mens' room to take a piss.

The bus driver followed him into the bathroom.

A stream of warm piss began cascading out of Carlos's dick.

The bus driver stood next to him at the urinal. "Hey," he said.

"Hey," replied Carlos.

"Just between you and me, I liked the show." The bus driver glanced down toward Carlos's dick. He caught a quick glimpse of the thick stream of urine Carlos was producing.

Carlos thought the bus driver was into his band and had recognised him from a recent gig. "Cool, man! You mean the show we played in Atlanta a few weekends ago? Or maybe one of the shows we played before that?"

"Huh?" said the bus driver, clearly confused.

Carlos sought clarity. "You're talking about my band, right?" he asked.

"Uh, no. I don't know what you're talking about there. But you're the guy sitting at the back of the bus? I saw it on my CCTV monitor. I nearly crashed the bus when you came."

"Fuck, dude, I had no idea," Carlos replied. He remembered the feeling of the bus jolting around just after he ended the call to Gorilla.

"You got a real nice dick, I hope you don't mind me saying. I noticed you were videoing yourself. Who's the lucky girl you sent that to?"

The bathroom door opened. A fellow passenger entered, and the rest of the incomplete conversation hung in the air. Carlos shook the stray drops of urine off his cock, zipped up, washed his hands, and climbed aboard the bus for the second leg of the journey.

*

The Greyhound rolled through to Jacksonville, arriving on time. Carlos's cock stayed inside his pants. He disembarked, but he had nothing to do and nowhere to be, until Gorilla arrived.

The bus driver completed the standard post-journey vehicle checks. He noticed Carlos aimlessly standing at the terminal doors, presumably waiting for something or someone. He tried to catch Carlos's attention, perhaps hoping for a quickie in the bathroom, but the headbanger wasn't interested.

Carlos collected his things and left the terminal. Fuck, Florida was humid. The heat smacked him in the face. Beads of sweat began to appear on his brow. 'No wonder these pricks get so many hurricanes down here,' he thought to himself.

His phone pinged.

Gorilla: hey man u here

Carlos: yeah just arrived not long ago where r u

Gorilla: just unloading at the warehouse doin paperwork come meet me

Gorilla disclosed his location. Carlos copied the coordinates into an app, and his phone showed him where Gorilla was and how to get there.

Carlos: ok gonna get a cab see you in 20 mins or so

Gorilla sent the thumbs-up emoji.

Forty minutes later -- the cab was late and the driver was racist -- Carlos arrived at the warehouse. As he disembarked from the taxi, he recognised Gorilla's truck. He knew he was in the right place. The driver got no tip, unless you count the extended middle finger and the 'fuck you' Carlos offered before he slammed the door.

He walked across the concrete to greet his sexy trucker, but he knew not to be overly friendly. Gorilla was at work, and he had professional relationships to maintain. There was absolutely no prospect of a hug, or of any other greeting gesture that wasn't formal, efficient and masculine. Carlos knew that flinging himself in the air expecting Gorilla to catch him would probably end in spinal injury. He strode across the concrete. Gorilla extended his hand, and this time, Carlos accepted it. Gorilla felt a sigh of relief.

"I totally get it, man," whispered Carlos. "This is your workplace."

"Thank you," Gorilla replied. They were on the exact same page.

Carlos looked around the warehouse. "I feel like I should be wearing a hard hat," he flirted.

Gorilla raised an eyebrow. "I already saw your hard hat once today, and I'm hoping to see it again later."

He finished unloading, updated his logbook and messaged corporate HQ that he was done for the day. His next delivery would take him back to Atlanta, and he was glad to know that he'd have some company as he drove Carlos back to his home city.

"I don't think I've ever been to Jacksonville before," admitted Carlos. "Is this gonna be like spring break?"

"Spring break? Fucked if I know," Gorilla said. "We're not on the beach, you know. We're on a mosquito-infested river which might as well be a swamp. Fucked if I know why anyone actually wants to live here. And anyway, isn't spring break all about chicks with low self-esteem flashing their plastic tits? If so, I'm not interested."

"You're not interested in women? Like, at all?"

"Nup. Not really. I thought we'd already been through this."

Carlos nodded. "You're right, we have. I've never been to Florida before, but I'm reliably informed that spring break isn't all about chicks and their titties. I'm told that if you know where to be and what to do, there are plenty of bi-curious frat dudes around."

Gorilla grunted. "I'll keep that in mind. Might be a good source of college boipussy."

"Anyway," suggested Carlos, "are you done for the day?"

"Yeah ... yeah, I think so," Gorilla replied. "And I'm gonna leave my truck here."

"How long are you here?"

"Two nights. I'm here tonight and tomorrow, shipping back out on Sunday to Atlanta. But we don't need to leave too early, the warehouse won't open until 11 that day so there's no need for a sunrise alarm."

They headed to find a taxi to take them to the Jacksonville Sleep Inn.

"They keep you in good digs, don't they?" smiled Carlos.

Gorilla grunted. "Nothing but the finest in shitty motels."

They flagged a cab and they climbed into the back seat. They rode in air-conditioned silence for a while.

"Thanks for the call," whispered Gorilla. He didn't want the cab driver to overhear their conversation.

"Huh?"

"The ... phone call ... from the bus," Gorilla clarified.

"I enjoyed it too."

Silence for a few moments.

"The bus driver saw me."

Gorilla's eyes bulged. "How?"

"Fuck, they've got cameras everywhere on those things. We took a pitstop at Savannah. I was in the mens' room taking a piss, the bus driver came in and stood next to me at the urinal and he said he liked the show. At first I thought he was talking about seeing me at a gig, but no ... he saw me jacking off on the bus. I don't know what worried me more -- the fact he was watching me, or the fact he wasn't watching the road!"

"Worst case scenario, other than him crashing the bus, there could've been State troopers waiting to arrest you at the terminal. They've got some odd laws down here, you know. You could've been on the local TV news. 'Florida's borders closed with Georgia due to interstate masturbator. Film at eleven'."

Carlos laughed. "If the bus driver had a problem, he probably would've left me stranded at the roadhouse in Savannah, that way I wouldn't have crossed the border. But given the way I saw him leering at me when we arrived in Jacksonville, I don't think he had an issue. Maybe he'll be able to download the footage off their system. He said I have a nice cock, and I don't care if he jerks off to me."