On the day after my 18th birthday, I packed a knapsack with a spare pair of sneakers, t-shirts, underwear, socks, shorts, and one pair of very worn jeans. It was a hot and humid late June morning when I got on a bus that would take me to the outskirts of Detroit. I put a hand to my crotch as I sat down, secure in the feeling that my two hundred dollars, wrapped in a hanky and placed snugly in my tight briefs, would be safe. Should anyone try to rob me, I would gladly give them my wallet that contained only five dollars. I doubted that I would be ordered to drop my shorts.
I got off the bus and walked a few blocks to the on-ramp of the interstate. I had not even put my thumb up when a car slowed down and pulled over. The driver, an elderly man, motioned to me with his hand. I got in and tossed my knapsack on the back seat.
"Thanks...thanks a lot," I said smiling.
"How far are you going?" he asked me as he pulled away.
"California."
"Wow!" he exclaimed. "Aren't you rather young to be traveling that far alone?"
"I'm 18...old enough."
"You don't look 18. I'm going to Indianapolis. Can you drive?"
"Sure can...got my license too," I said, trying to picture where Indianapolis was. I was thinking more in terms of going to Chicago.
"Good, because you can spell me after awhile. Are you going to see a relative or somebody in California?"
"Nope. I don't know anybody there. I'm gonna live there 'cause I hate Detroit. I don't like cold weather."
"I would imagine your family was upset about your leaving."
"Only got a father and he didn't care none. In fact..."
"What? In fact what?"
Questions, questions...I thought. I'll have to get used to them, I guessed. "He had a girlfriend staying with us so he wanted me to go."
"That's sad. Do you have any money?"
"Some." When was he gonna stop? I wondered.
"By the way, what's your name?"
"Bill Pierce."
"Nice name. I'm James Rackey."
James? Not Jim? "Do you have any kids?" I asked him, deciding to be a little friendly.
"Never married," he said, slapping my bare knee. "How old do you think I am?"
I looked at him closely for the first time. He had thick white hair but a very smooth looking face. The hair had fooled me earlier. "Maybe 40...41."
"Pretty good guess...I'm 42. Say, I couldn't help noticing...you have very well built legs. Is that why you're wearing shorts?"
"No, it's hot out, you know?" His remark surprised me.
"I'll be staying in a nice motel in Indianapolis. You're welcome to spend tonight with me. I'll treat you to a nice breakfast in the morning and drive you to Interstate 70."
I hesitated. I hadn't given much thought to nights on the road, figuring that I would sleep in the cars. Indianapolis couldn't be too far from Detroit and I had hoped to cover longer distances each day.
"Well? You aren't afraid, are you?"
"No, it's just that I hoped to cover more mileage each day."
"Nonsense. Take it easy for your first day anyway. Look, I'll give you 50 dollars if you spend the night."
"Fifty dollars! You'll give me that much just to spend the night?"
"For certain favors, of course," he said, grinning.
Alarms started to go off in my head. I should have guessed right away, I thought. "What kind of favors?" I asked him. He pulled out a cigarette and pushed in the lighter. I waited. After he lit up, he glanced at me a little nervously, I felt.
"Well, you know, I like to fool around. I'm sort of a switch-hitter, if you know what I mean."
I did. "I'm not into that sort of thing. Sorry."
"I didn't think that you were. I wouldn't expect you to do anything."
I thought about it for a moment. What the hell...50 bucks was a lot of money to add to the little I had. I shrugged. "Okay," I said.
"Great! Tell me frankly, have you had any experiences along those lines?"
"Getting head?"
"Yes."
"No, never."
"No fooling around with the other guys at all? he persisted.
"Mutual jerk off stuff when I was a kid," I admitted.
The motel was a nice one and our room had two double beds. As soon as he closed the door behind us, he reached around and groped me.
"What the hell is that?" he asked me.
"My money," I said, grinning. "Nice hiding place, huh?"
"It sure the hell is. Look, let's get undressed and jump into the shower. I'll give your back a good scrubbing."
James never got around to washing my back. I had hardly gotten wet when he was down on his knees in front of me. He was good, no doubt about it. I splattered the shower door in about three minutes. It felt a hell of a lot better than jerking off, I had to admit.
We finished showering, dressed, and had dinner in the motel restaurant. Back in our room later, I was watching TV while James was in the toilet. I noticed his wallet on the night stand. Probably testing me, I thought. He walked out of the john wearing nothing but a large smile on his face.
"You didn't tell me, Bill...how was it?"
"The steak was great...nice and tender."
He laughed and sat down on the bed next to me. "I wasn't talking about dinner but the deal in the shower earlier."
"Oh that. Damn good. You saw how I exploded."
"You sure did," he said, winking. He ran a hand up my thigh and squeezed. "What did you do with your money?"
"In my sneakers."
"I see that you're ready again. It's great to be so young."
I shrugged, not knowing what else to do or say. He pushed me back on the bed and pulled off my briefs. I watched him working on me and it seemed strange because he just didn't look like the type. It took just a little longer than the first time. I grabbed his head and he didn't fight it. Another moment and he raised up and sighed.
"I wouldn't have done that except for your being a cherry," he said, patting me on the stomach. "Can't be too careful with that AIDS shit going around. Have you had many girls, Bill?"
"A few. I had a steady girlfriend once for about six months and I had her a lot of times. I always used a rubber though because I didn't want to knock her up and I didn't believe her when she said she was taking the pill."
"Good for you. You're a smart kid, Bill. Well, should we get some sleep?"
I had very little of it. He had me two more times during the night and in between, his hand was always there. In the morning we had a nice breakfast. I put the 50 dollars he gave me with the rest of my money and slipped it in my briefs again while he watched, grinning. He then drove me to the outskirts of town by Interstate 70. I thanked him, we shook hands, he drove off and I put up my thumb. I was feeling good. It was the first time I had ever popped four times in such a short time span. I was thinking about it, smiling, while feeling the bulge in my shorts. A white Lincoln came to a screeching stop in front of me. It was a younger man this time with thinning blond hair. He lowered the window.
"Hop in, kid."
I dropped the knapsack on the floor in front of me. The car was so big, there was plenty of room. I snapped on the seat belt and gave him a smile. "Thanks a lot."
"My pleasure. Where are you from?"
"Detroit."
"It sucks. I hope you are leaving it for good."
"I am...going to California."
"Of course. I didn't think you were going to Oklahoma. I'm going to St. Louis so just lie back and relax."
I tried to because I was still sleepy. However, he kept talking. St. Louis was about 240 miles, he said. He was going to some sort of business convention. He stopped in Terre Haute for gas. As he drove out of the station, he asked me what my name was. I told him. He didn't volunteer to tell me his so I didn't ask. Strangers on the road, I thought, and we would never see each other again once we parted. Finally, I was able to doze off. He didn't stop again until we reached St. Louis. He went out of his way to drop me off near Interstate 44, advising me to be careful on who I caught rides with. I thanked him. He made no effort to shake hands so I slammed the door shut. A nice guy, I thought, as I walked to a near by on-ramp.
In about ten minutes, a blue Olds slowed down, then stopped ahead of me. I ran up thinking how lucky I had been so far on getting rides. When I saw the guy, however, I hesitated. There was something about him I didn't like. He reached over and pushed open the door.
"Hop in, handsome," he said.
Another one, I thought, forcing back a frown. However, he looked harmless enough so I got in.
"California, huh?" he asked, poking me lightly on my arm.
"Hopefully," I said.
"You'll get there, my boy, you'll get there," he said, digging his knuckles into my thigh. "Look, kid, I'll be frank with you because I don't believe in beating around the bush. I'll give you 100 bucks plus a ride to Springfield if you agree to stop at a motel with me and let me throw a good fuck into you."
It took a moment or two for his words to sink in. Then they did. "Go fuck yourself!" I yelled at him, "and let me the fuck out of this car." He did...slamming on the brakes so hard, I would have gone through the windshield except for the seat belt. I grabbed my bag, got out, and started to walk. He tooted his horn as he zoomed by, waving.
I climbed the embankment and walked along it until I got to the next on-ramp. I knew that it was illegal to hitchhike on interstates in most states so I didn't want to take the chance. When I reached it, I saw a sign saying 400 miles to Tulsa and 220 to Springfield, the city the fucker had offered to drive me to. Bastard, I thought, as I kicked a pop can so hard, I almost knocked my knee out of joint. At that moment, a red Thunderbird went by with its horn blasting. It stopped and backed up. To my pleasant surprise, there was a young couple in it. The girl stuck her head out the window, smiling.
"Hi, good looking. Going our way?"
"California," I said, surprised she had called me that, considering the man was probably her husband.
"You're in luck. We're going all the way to Las Vegas. That's Nevada, you know, right next to California. Hop in."
I tried the back door but it was locked. She opened her door and stepped out. "Between me and Ron, honey. Can't be too careful with hitchhikers, you understand?"
I smiled and nodded, tossed my pack to the back seat and slid in. She got in and pushed up against me. Her thigh, against mine, made me instantly hard.
"Do you know why we stopped to pick you up?" she asked me.
"Nope," I said, shrugging.
"Because you have such beautiful legs, that's why. Tell me, where do you come from?"
"Michigan...Detroit."
"Dreadful country, the mid-west. We can hardly wait to get back to Nevada. Have you had problems getting rides?"
I was beginning to feel a little uneasy. She had put a hand on my thigh and was squeezing. Ron was looking straight ahead. "Not really," I finally said. "This is my fourth one...well, one was for just a short distance."
"Really? How nice. Ron, honey, feel his thigh. Feel how hard it is."
Ron put a hand to my other thigh. I couldn't believe what was happening. "You're right, sweetheart," he said, smiling at me through the mirror.
"What's your name, sweetie?"
"Bill."
"Somehow you look like a Bill. I'm Joan and Ron is my husband, of course. Bill, Ron doesn't like to drive more than 400 miles a day so it will take us about four days to get to Vegas. We'll be staying in motels along the way. You won't be shy about sharing rooms with us, will you?"
"No, I guess not," I replied, thinking how so many people were kind of weird.
However, I was thrilled at the thought of almost reaching California with them.
The room we stayed in that first night, in Joplin, had one king size bed. We had stopped for dinner in Springfield so when we got to our room, Joan suggested we shower and get to bed. I let them use the shower first while I watched the news on TV. In a few minutes, they walked into the room, naked. God, what a beautiful body she had! Her boobs were firm, the size of grapefruits, and stuck straight out.
"Your turn, honey," she said. I was grateful for the money hanky in my briefs. It helped cover the raging hard-on I had.
I took my time showering. I wondered what part Ron was going to play in bed. Was he going to make love to his wife while I watched? I wondered...then let me have a go at her while he watched?
When I walked back into the room, Joan and Ron were lying in bed, sharing one pillow. I dropped my shorts and briefs on my pack and went to the bed smiling sheepishly. Joan held her arm out as I lay down and immediately started to kiss me all over my face, neck, and chest. I looked over her shoulder at Ron. He was looking up at the ceiling with a smile on his face. Incredible, I thought, as Joan moved her wet mouth down my chest to my stomach, following the hair line. When she reached my dick, she swooped down on it without the slightest hesitation. In two nights, I was getting head, first by a man and now by a gal. So far, James had been better at it, I thought. Joan wasn't giving as much pressure. I was enjoying it more with her, however, because I loved the feel of her tits bouncing on my thighs as she worked on me.
I had been so intent with Joan, I had almost forgotten about Ron until his elbow touched my arm as he sat up on the bed facing us. He started to jerk off, staring at Joan as he did. Joan stopped sucking, sat up and straddled me. In like two minutes, I came. Getting head was good but a tight pussy was much better.
I slept soundly that night. There was no middle-of-the-night encores as had happened with James. We had a nice breakfast in the morning and were on the road again before seven. Joan told me she and Ron had been married for three years, both were 25 and were returning to their Las Vegas home after a visit to Ohio to see relatives. Ron was a croupier (he had to explain what a croupier was to me) in a casino and Joan worked as a cocktail waitress in the same casino.
We spent our second night in a small motel in a town called Elk City. After dinner, we showered and hopped into bed. For the first time in my life, I went down on a girl. Joan went wild. Eventually, I moved up on her and got myself off. Ron lay next to us, wiping himself off with some Kleenex.
Albuquerque was our third stop. We had a leisurely dinner, walked around the area for awhile, then retired for the night. This time Ron grabbed my dick while Joan was nibbling on the head of it. He took my hand and put it on his hard-on. It bothered me for a moment but then I thought, what the hell, it was no different than the kid stuff I used to take part in. Ron let go when he was about to pop and grabbed a Kleenex. Joan straddled me again.
We got an extra early start the next morning and drove all the way to Kingman, Arizona. What had happened the previous night was pretty much repeated. Afterwards, I lay awake for some time, knowing it was going to be my last night with them. It had been quite an experience for me and I was going to miss them.
Joan hugged and kissed me at the bus depot in Las Vegas the next afternoon. Ron shook my hand and slipped an envelope in my pocket. I got on the bus and waved to them from the window as the bus pulled away. I opened the flap of the unsealed envelope and looked in. There were four 100 dollar bills. I shook my head in happy disbelief.
"Are you going to L.A.?" the person sitting next to me asked.
I turned and was pleased to see a very pretty girl. I had been so intent with my thoughts about Joan, Ron, and looking out the window, I had paid no attention to her when she sat down. I nodded and smiled.
"To start off with, I am. I'm not sure about staying there. I sort of want to see what San Francisco is like too."
"San Francisco is beautiful in comparison to Los Angeles. It's warmer in L.A. How long have you lived in Las Vegas?"
"Never. I just got in a couple of hours ago. I'm from Detroit. I hitchhiked across the country."
"Really? How exciting! Did it take you very long?"
I shook my head. "I left Detroit on Monday, so only five days. This bus is the fifth vehicle I've been in. Do you go to Vegas often?"
"Every few months to visit a sister who lives there. I'm not old enough to gamble yet."
"Neither am I. You live in L.A.?"
"Burbank. Who was that couple I saw you with?"
"They picked me up and I rode with them for four days. Very nice people."
"Look, if you want, you can stay with me in my apartment until you decide where you want to live. I think I'm a pretty good judge of character and you seem to be a nice guy."
"Well thank you very much. My name is Bill...Bill Pierce. What's yours?"
John Concilio is a frequent contributor to SOTT - what he does with all those 'life-of-the-magazine' subscriptions is anyone's guess. According to John, he is "still banging away on this machine trying to finish a story about life in the South Pacific on an Army missile range island.
For more stories by John Concilio, click here.
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