Highway Hard-On

(Part 1 from 3)

Highway driving gets boring. Long stretches of turnpike don't demand much concentration, so my mind always wanders to its favorite subject --- sex! In the summer, my wandering mind is aided by the view: single guys in sports cars and pickups, most driving shirtless, with one tanned arm out the window. I drive one-handed myself, but my free arm isn't out the window; my hand is gently rubbing my crotch as I fantasize.

Sometimes I catch a smile from a passing guy, but even if I follow him, it always turns out he takes the next exit. I look away from inviting glances at rest stops, even though I do get a hard-on while pissing as I read the writings on the wall. I've read too much about AIDS, so I tuck my enlarged cock back in my pants and drive on.

Not long ago, though, cruising along with hand and mind as usual in my crotch, I was feeling so charged up I had to stop caressing my cock for fear Id come in my pants. Deciding to jack off in the bushes for relief, I moved into the slow lave in search of a likely spot. I had to slow down suddenly for a fancy painted van ahead of me, pooping along at about 50.

Right away I noticed its oversized rear-view mirrors, whish gave me a good view of the dude driving. The light from his sunroof shone down on his blond hair, above a handsome, tanned face. I hung in behind him. He looked in his mirror, locked eyes with me, and gave me a wide smile. I smiled back, heartbeat quickening. My sunroof undoubtedly was lighting me up enough to give him a good view too, letting him see my tanned shoulders in my tank top. It looked as though he was driving shirtless, one muscular arm out of window. My tight shorts got tighter as I watched him raise his arm to toy with the rear view mirror, knowing he didnt really need to adjust it.

Watching his muscles flex, I admiringly wondered, is he showing off to interest me? Then my brain said, don't get excited buddy. Hell probably turn off at the next exit. As I watched, he dropped his brown arm down from the window and began a slow, rhythmic beat on his door panel. Beat-beat-beat off, I thought, with this dude beside me in the bushes, doing the same? I wish his hand were beating my cock. You dont get aids beating off. Aw, for cripes sake, get real, stop fantasizing. Everything you see means sex, sex, sex. Try keeping your mind on driving.

I was still following the van closely. When he rested his arm on the open window again, I could se him looking hard at me in his mirror, and he seemed to give me a big wink. My lust was building up to such a level I figured, well, it wouldnt hurt to get a better look, so I pulled out as if to pass. Pulling up parallel with him, I looked straight across. He was good looking and was driving shirtless. He returned my appraisal, smiling warmly and flicking his tongue over his lips invitingly. Grabbing the top of his van window, he slid his hand back and forth suggestively.

Suddenly the car behind me honked, and I realized I was blocking anyone who wanted to pass. Goosing the gas, I slipped ahead of the van and pulled into his lace again. He caught right up to me and held position, close to my tailpipe. O.K. pal, Ill play your game, I thought and, mimicking him, hung my bare arm out the window fingers curled around an imaginary cock, and beat rhythmically on my door panel.

Instantly he got the message, and in my rear view mirror I saw his arm snake out his window, hand in the same cock-holding position, matching my rhythm meat for beat. It was almost as if we were beating off together. I nearly creamed my shorts.

Then he waved, and I could see him pick up his CB mike as he gestured toward me, lets talk. Since I dont have a CB, I risked taking both hands off the wheel for a moment to give an exaggerated shrug accompanied by a negative shake of my head. He caught the message, dropped hi CB mike, and pulled out abreast of me. Looking over with a wide rein, licking his lips most suggestively, he raised his eyebrows to signal, You wanna? and gestured Follow me. Then he took off down the highway like a big assed bird.


Yeah, I thought, as I followed him recklessly, I do wanna. I do wanna have you suck my cock, I do wanna suck yours; but get smart! Casual sex just aint no more! AIDS put a stop to that. Either well just have a mutual jerk-off or nothing.

My usual package of condoms was not in my glove compartment, and unless he was prepared? I might take a few risks speeding, but I take no risks with AIDS.

I followed the speeding van down the highway till I spotted a rest stop sign. So, that was where he was heading. I followed as he slowed to enter. He headed around the crowded restaurant and gas station to the more quiet back of the lot with me trailing after him. *I pulled in beside him just as he was easing his beautiful, long, well-muscled, golden haired legs out on the passenger side of his van. I got a quick flash of a bulging crotch in his brief, cut down jeans. As I tramped down on the parking brake, I took a longer look. He was worth it.

Naked to the waist, my turnpike turn-on leaned against the side of his van, revealing a torso I longed to get my hands on: firm-looking pecs, nipples enticingly erect, golden chest hair, and a flat stomach with a tantalizing line of hair leading down toward the prize I wanted. He raised one arm to stroke his hair back, showing off a great bulge of muscle. His other hand rubbed his crotch.

We locked eyes as I slowly stepped down from my van, letting him get a good look at the body I was proud of and my own bulging crotch, I knew from the mirror in the gym where I work out that my revealingly cut tank top fit tight and looked good. We stood there a moment, drinking each other in, eyeing each other like a couple of hungry tigers. My voice was a little uneven as I spoke while gesturing toward his gaily-painted van.

Nice-looking rig youve got there.

Yours looks pretty good too, he replied in a low voice, eyes riveted not on my van but on my crotch. My names Jed, and he stuck out a friendly hand.

Putting my hand forward, I found it wrapped in a firm, larger hand that was gently tugging me toward him, as I blurted, Hi, Im Tom.

Wanna see what its like inside? he asked, looking deep into my eyes and continuing to pull me toward him.

Yeah, Jed, Id like that, I said, knees weak, breathing irregular. He had pulled me so close to him now we were almost touching, and as he released my hand, his hand brushed across my bulging crotch.

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