Escort Service

My name is Rock Lewis. Well, it's actually Rockford Lewis. My dad was a big fan of the TV show 'The Rockford Files', hence the name, but everyone calls me Rock or Rocky.

I'm twenty-eight years old, six foot two inches tall and at one hundred ninety pounds, I am fairly well built from working out three to four times a week. I work for an escort service.

Don't get the wrong idea. Yes, I'm gay and love all sex with men as often as possible, however the escort service I work for escorts trucks with oversize loads.

I'm sure you have seen the rigs on the highway or going through town with a car or pickup with yellow flashing lights escorting the trucks on the road. I drive one of those escort vehicles. There is one or two escorts with the rig.

Most of the drivers that I've escorted were either much older than I preferred or extremely overweight, or both.

When we stop, the drivers usually stay in their rig, while I go to a nearby motel and get a room all to myself. Being by myself, sometimes I get lucky in the sex department.

I went into our office and checked the board where our assignments were posted. Finding my name, I saw that I was assigned to a rig that was loading at a wire and cable company and was going to a drop almost a thousand miles away. Depending on driving conditions, time spent waiting for police escorts through towns, and such, I estimated it would take at least four days.

I went by the office and got my paper work, including all the permits and allowed routes, then gassed up my pickup and headed out. I was paid nicely on a per mile basis, plus the company furnished me a company credit card for any repairs to my truck I might need, food and lodging and gas.

I arrived at the terminal to meet the driver I was escorting. I met the shipping manager and he turned and called out, "Hey, Brad, your escort is here."

"On my way," I heard from their break room.

He came out of the break room and my heart skipped a beat or two as he came up to me.

Extending his hand, he said, "Brad Davis at your service." I saw him looking me over thoroughly.

Shaking his hand, I replied, "Rock Lewis," thinking about the way he said 'at your service.'

"They'll have me loaded shortly. Let's grab a cup of coffee and get to know each other."

He led me to the break room and as we sipped our coffee, I found out that he was twenty-nine, single with no girlfriend, and as he put it lived 'on the wild side' whatever that meant. I in turn told him I was single also and had no one special although I did date on the rare occasions I was home.

Brad was just barely shorter that I and I estimated his weight to be close to mine. He had medium brown hair and emerald green eyes and an unbelievably beautiful smile. His snug tank top revealed large biceps and a fairly muscular hairy chest. I knew that I was going to be horny as hell on this trip from just being around him. Never had I escorted such a hot driver.

We headed out of the terminal with a police escort through town and eventually reached the open highway where the officer left us on our own.

Brad and I each had a CB radio. We kept them on channel nineteen, the 'trucker's channel' and it was agreed that if we wanted to speak to each other privately we'd just say 'go to the other one' then we'd switch to channel two for our conversation.

The spools of cable on Brad's trailer hung off the trailer on each side by about a foot and a half. Therefore, he drove as far as possible to the right on the slow or right lane.

We chatted on our channel quite a bit on the open road. We didn't have to worry about speed traps, because his truck wouldn't go over fifty-five miles an hour.

We stopped for lunch and as we ate, he asked, "How come a young nice looking guy like you is driving escort and not settling down with some hot chick?"

"Well, first off, I love being outdoors. I'm not an office type person. I love the traveling and meeting people. Secondly, I've never met a 'chick' as you put it that liked what I like, and I'm not going to change."

"And just what do you like?"

"Camping, all sports, hiking, and fishing, among other things. How abut you?"

"Well, to be honest, I like the same things as you and no woman would put up with my being on the road all the time."

"I know what you mean," I replied.

We were sitting at a table in one corner of the truck stop restaurant with Brad sitting to my left and not across from me. During the meal, I noticed that he pressed his right knee against mine several times and when he did, he'd apply a sight pressure against my leg. I wondered if it was intentional or not.

That afternoon, he radioed me that he was nearing his time limit for being behind the wheel and we needed to find a place to stop for the night. I acknowledged him and said since he was in the lead to pick the spot.

about forty-five minutes later he pulled off the highway and into a large truck stop. Next to it was a small motel that catered to truckers.

As he parked his rig, I checked into the motel, getting a room with a king size bed. After dropping my bag in my room, I walked over to the truck parking area and up to his rig. He was in back and yelled for me to come on up.

I climbed in and stepped back into the sleeper. Brad was getting a change of clothes together to take to the shower after we ate. As he did, I sat on the edge of the bunk. It was thin and hard.

"Fuck, man, how do you sleep on this thing? It's like sitting on a board."

"Oh, over time, you get used to it," he said.

"Fuck, I never would," I replied.

We went to eat and took our time, relaxing and getting to know each other better. We sat and talked for over an hour before I headed back to my room and Brad headed for the shower. i had given him my room number and told him to come on over and we'd watch some TV. He said he would.

Back in my room, as I lay on the comfortable bed, I kept thinking of Brad sleeping on that hard bunk. I was shirtless when there was a knock on my door.

I checked and saw it was Brad and opened the door for him.

"Come on in," I said.

He stepped in, looking at my muscular chest.

As I closed the door, he smiled and said, "Man, Rock, you're built better than I thought you were."

"Thanks," I said, "and that tank top you had on today showed off your nice physique also."

"I try to stay in shape."

As we watched TV, Brad had propped up on the other side of the bed with me. I again thought about him sleeping on that hard bunk. Hoping he wouldn't think I was being too forward, I finally made an offer.

TO BE CONTINUED.........