by Drew Hunt
Trucker and Pup
By Drew Hunt
Published by JMS Books LLC
This book is available in print.
Visit jms-books.com for more information.
Copyright 2011 Drew Hunt
ISBN 978-1-61152-134-4
Cover Photo Credit: Mikhail Dudarev
Used under a Standard Royalty-Free License.
Cover Design: J.M. Snyder
All Rights Reserved
WARNING: This book is not transferable. It is for your own personal use. If it is sold, shared, or given away, it is an infringement of the copyright of this work and violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.
No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review.
This book is for ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Published in the United States of America.
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Trucker and Pup
By Drew Hunt
Table Of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Epilogue
Chapter 1
Joey Goldman laughed as he watched Kevin Lawrence, the office nerd, getting drenched as he stood on the kerb waiting to cross the road.
Once he’d parked his lorry, however, Joey was beginning to regret his amusement at the guy’s expense. Better go and see if he’s all right, he thought jumping from his cab and running across the car park, head bent against the torrential rain.
“Sorry, mate,” Joey said, once he’d reached the half-drowned man. “I didn’t see you ’til it was too late.” This wasn’t exactly true. Joey could have driven around the puddle, but he knew the timid office worker wouldn’t make a fuss.
“No, it was my fault for standing there.”
“Okay, then.” Joey turned toward the office building.
“Um.”
“Yeah, mate?” Joey turned back to face a pensive-looking Kevin.
“I’ve got a few minutes before my bus is due, um, I could, um, sort of…” Kevin ground to a halt, his cheeks had turned a bright shade of red, or at least what Joey could see of them. Kevin’s gaze seemed fixed on his shoes.
“I’d appreciate a hand with the paperwork, if you don’t mind.”
“No problem.”
Joey ran for the main building, Kevin unsuccessfully trying to keep up. Joey couldn’t help mulling over their conversation. It was the most they’d ever said to each other in the couple of years that Kevin had worked for the haulage company.
Once inside, Joey made a bee-line for the toilets. Heavy rain always seemed to stimulate his bladder.
“Fuck!” he sighed as he let loose with his stream. A long piss was almost as good as getting off. He’d been stuck in his cab all day, the constant vibration of the diesel engine leaving him with a half-hard. “God, I could use a good shag tonight,” he said, tucking himself back in and buttoning up his Levi’s.
Pulling out a comb from his back pocket, Joey moved to the wash hand basin and checked his reflection in the mirror. “I can’t be arsed going out to the bars in this lot.”
He smiled when he remembered swaggering into The Black Bear the previous weekend. Once he’d pushed his way to the bar, he’d put his hand on the shoulder of a bloke sat on one of the high barstools. “Go and get your coat, mate. You’ve pulled.” Joey’s smile widened into a grin. He’d only meant his chat up line as a load of macho bullshit, but the poor bastard had almost come in his panties when he turned to face him. The night hadn’t lived up to its promising start, though. The guy had been a lousy fuck. Joey liked his bed partners to have a bit of fight in them. All the guy had done was lie back and presumably think of England.
Exiting the toilets, Joey walked into the office where Kevin awaited him, paperwork set out neatly on the desk. All he had to do was fill in the final mileage and sign on the dotted line.
“Thanks, mate. That was a big help,” Joey said, handing Kevin the forms.
“That’s okay.” As usual Kevin couldn’t meet Joey’s eyes when he spoke to him.
The pair made their way out of the office and down the corridor to the exit. Once outside, Joey looked up to see the lighted windows of a double-decker moving down the street. “Isn’t that your bus?”
“Oh, no!” Kevin said, breaking into a run, but Joey could see he wasn’t going to make it.
Joey watched as Kevin skidded in a patch of motor oil, his legs going from under him, as he none too gracefully hit the tarmac. Kevin’s spectacles flew from his nose and skated along the asphalt, stopping a couple of feet from the spread-eagled figure.
Joey ran to help. “You okay?”
“Think so,” Kevin said, wincing as he tried to stand.
“Here, let me help you up.”
Joey put his arms under Kevin’s shoulders and lifted him to his feet. To his surprise Kevin seemed to weigh almost nothing, little more than his eight-year-old nephew in fact. Joey could feel the small man trembling. Was he also crying? It was difficult to tell because of the rain.
“Hey, mate, sor-right. Let me just pick up your specs, then we’ll sort you out.”
Joey scooped the glasses from the ground and hooked them around Kevin’s’ ears. Tilting the smaller man’s head so the glow from one of the perimeter lights shone on his face, Joey looked directly into Kevin’s liquid brown eyes, blinking through the scratched lenses at him. Kevin’s eyes reminded Joey of Bertie, a Basset hound he used to own as a kid. Knowing the glasses were now useless, Joey pulled them from Kevin’s face, revealing a set of high cheekbones and a pair of long full eye lashes which blinked nervously.
“Um, I think you need a new pair of specs.”
Kevin grimaced, but on him it looked kind of cute. Cute? Joey asked himself.
“Look, it was my fault your glasses got broke. I’ll buy you a new pair.”
“No, it’s okay, you don’t need to.”
“Rubbish. If you hadn’t come back in with me, you’d not have had to run for your bus.”
As they stood side-by-side in the rain, Joey’s six feet three inch frame dwarfing that of Kevin’s five feet two inches, Joey couldn’t resist wrapping a protective arm around Kevin’s shoulder. It was the first time he’d ever had any prolonged physical contact with the slightly built man.
“Can you walk on that ankle?” he said, staring down at the shorter man.
Kevin tried to look away, but Joey held his gaze.
“I think so.” Kevin took a step but would have fallen if Joey hadn’t caught him.
“Well, that answers that question, then.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Sir? Did he say sir? Joey asked himself. “Um, I can take you home on the back of my bike, it’s the least I can do.”
“Oh, no, honest, I can wait for the next bus, I’ll be all
right.”
“Give over arguing, it’s decided.”
The smaller man sagged, seeming to resign himself to his fate.
“Come on, lean on me.” Joey wrapped an arm around Kevin, helping to support his weight as he hobbled along. The rain was beginning to creep under Joey’s leather jacket, causing him to shiver. “Shit, this is too slow.”
“Sorry, I can’t go any faster.”
“Sor-right, I know you can’t.” Joey picked Kevin up. As he carried him towards his motorcycle Kevin began to squirm. “Stop wriggling!” Joey commanded.
“Sorry.” Apart from the occasional shiver, Kevin managed to lie still.
After gently placing his charge on the pillion seat, Joey got out the spare helmet and made sure it was correctly positioned on Kevin’s head before straddling the bike and kick starting the engine. As usual, the throaty roar and the vibration between his legs gave Joey a thrill.
“Put your arms around me, and hold on!” Joey shouted, but Kevin didn’t respond. Obviously the guy didn’t hear him, or was too panicked to comply. Reaching behind himself, Joey grasped his passenger’s arms and wrapped them round his chest. Letting out the clutch, Joey sped out of the car park.
As he travelled down the rain-swept streets, Joey realised he hadn’t asked where Kevin lived. Maybe this was a conscious oversight; he’d just have to take the man back to his place. Joey smiled, his dick twitching at the thought.
The evening traffic was light, so it only took ten minutes to get home. Pulling up outside a set of garages, Joey hopped off his bike, unlocked the garage door, then got back on and drove the pair of them into the dark interior. Cutting the engine, Joey waited a few seconds for his ears to stop ringing before he took off his helmet.
Leaning back in the saddle, Joey was certain his passenger was sporting wood. Hmm, interesting.
“Okay, time to dismount.”
“But, but, I don’t live here.”
“I know, I thought I’d get you dried off and everything at my place first, okay?”
“But, but…”
“Don’t argue. Come on.” Joey gave a light whack to Kevin’s behind; Kevin shot upwards in shock, and started to shake.
Christ, he’s a timid one. Better go careful.
The two made slow progress towards the back entrance to the block of flats, Kevin needing to lean quite heavily on Joey, the latter finding it strangely appealing.
“It’d be quicker if I carried you up the stairs.”
Kevin stiffened.
Turning Kevin round to face him, Joey stared down at the smaller man. “It’ll be okay. I don’t bite. Well, not often anyway.” Joey laughed, but Kevin didn’t join in. “What’s wrong?” Joey lifted the smaller man’s drooping chin with a finger.
“Sorry, Sir,” the man said, still shaking.
What’s with all this sir shit? Joey mused as he picked the bloke up. Though he had to admit Kevin’s deference did give him a bit of a thrill. He’d role played with a few of his more adventurous tricks, Joey always taking the role of the master of course. He wondered what would happen with a man who was naturally submissive.
Finally reaching the third floor, Joey gently set Kevin down as he fished out his key. “Welcome to my humble abode,” Joey said, carrying his human cargo into the hallway.
Joey was about to apologise for the mess which he knew would await them, he wasn’t much into housework, but the place shone like a new pin. Joey could even detect the faint odour of lavender furniture polish. He didn’t think he owned any furniture polish.
After setting Kevin on a stool in the kitchen, Joey went to the fridge to confirm his suspicions. Not finding what he was after, he depressed the pedal on his waste bin and pulled out an unopened packet of bacon. “For fuck’s sake!”
The harshness of his tone caused Kevin to start in alarm.
Joey noticed it and immediately went to reassure his guest. “Sorry. It’s just when I saw that the place had been cleaned, I knew my mother had been round.”
“Oh, right.”
“She’s Jewish, so’s my dad. Which of course makes me Jewish, too, though I don’t observe.”
“Okay.”
Looking at the clean kitchen, Joey went on, “And like mothers the world over, she can’t help sticking her nose in.” He put a set of flowered tea-towels in the bottom drawer of the cabinet, before fishing out his usual plain white ones. “Trust me, Yiddish mothers are the worst for interfering.”
Kevin looked sad.
“What’s up?”
“Nothing.”
“It’s okay, Pup, you can tell me.” Joey wondered why he’d used the epithet. It seemed to suit Kevin, those chocolate drop eyes of his looked so much like Bertie’s.
Kevin couldn’t meet Joey’s gaze, even though the latter had made a conscious effort to soften it. “My parents disowned me, um…When they—”
“When they found out you were gay.”
Kevin stared at Joey in absolute terror.
Joey suddenly realised what he’d said. “It’s okay. I’ve known about you and Cal Briggs for ages, Cal didn’t exactly keep it a secret.” Joey recalled the many macho boasts the man had shared with his fellow drivers about how he was able to dominate his submissive partner. Though he’d remained unusually quiet on the subject recently.
“I’m not out to my family, and I’d like to keep it that way.” Joey shuddered at the thought of them knowing. Needing to change the subject, he said, “Listen, we’ll have to get you out of those wet things, otherwise you’ll catch your death. I’ll run you a bath, then I’ll find you something to put on, though none of my stuff will fit you.”
Kevin’s panic appeared to have lessened. “That’s okay, Sir, please just take me home, I’ll be fine.”
“Rubbish.” Joey was feeling protective towards his guest. “Come on, I’ll carry you to the bathroom, you can strip off in there.”
“No, honestly, I—”
“Pup,” Joey held Kevin’s face in his hands, “You’re staying for a bath, and it’s not negotiable.”
Kevin sagged, obviously giving into the inevitability of it all.
Joey hoisted up his burden and carried him into the bathroom. Putting Kevin down on the closed toilet lid, he began to run the water, making sure he added plenty of bubble bath.
“Now strip.”
“Um, it’s okay, Sir, I can manage, please.” Kevin looked up pleadingly into Joey’s face.
Something inside Joey shifted, making him feel…what? He wasn’t sure he could identify it. “Okay,” Joey said softly, backing out of the room. In the hallway, he slapped the side of his face. You’re turning fucking soft.
He walked back to the kitchen to rustle up some food. Deciding it probably wasn’t safe to use the bacon, he opted for his old standby of a couple of frozen TV dinners. Joey knew he was no cook.
Once the foil trays were in the oven, Joey remembered he hadn’t seen any towels in the bathroom. No doubt his mother had taken them back to her house to be washed. Reaching into the airing cupboard, he pulled out a couple of large bath sheets.
Pushing open the bathroom door, Joey said “Here’s some fresh…” The rest of his statement died on his lips as he stared disbelievingly at the sight that greeted him.
Kevin lowered his shaking shoulders, a sob escaping from his lips. This snapped Joey out of his inactivity; he moved into the bathroom and went down on his knees in front of the bath. Reaching out a hand, he began to touch the numerous thin raised scars on Kevin’s exposed back. This only seemed to cause Kevin to weep harder. One of the more obvious marks was in the shape of a belt buckle. Joey battled to suppress his anger.
“Did Briggs do this?” Joey asked through clenched teeth.
“Sorry, Sir. I…I…I didn’t want you to see them, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” Kevin dissolved totally.
Joey counted to ten, using the time to dig deep into his reserves of strength. Taking a deep breath—and despite being fully clothed—he reache
d for Kevin. Using as much gentleness as he could muster, Joey plucked the little bloke out of the bath. Wrapping a towel round the shaking ball of human misery, Joey sat on the closed toilet lid and seated Kevin on his knee, holding him close.
“Hush, Pup. Please hush.” He began to rock the smaller man.
No one spoke for the longest time; Joey kept up his gentle rocking, which eventually had its desired effect. Kevin’s sobs lessened and eventually ceased altogether.
“Want to talk about it?” Joey asked, little above a whisper.
Kevin shook his head; Joey knew he couldn’t press him.
“I think you’re dry now, I’ll try and find you something to wear. Will you be okay if I leave you for a minute?”
Kevin nodded, but still kept his head bent.
“Okay.”
Joey ran into the master bedroom. Flopping down on his bed, he covered his face with a pillow and wept. He hadn’t cried in years, not since he was ten and Bertie had got run over. Joey remembered his father had taken him over his knee and spanked him for showing weakness. “Be a man. Real men don’t cry.”
For the whole of his teen years, Joey had tried to live up to the son his father had wanted—no, demanded—he be. If Joey had done the slightest thing wrong, his father would unhook his belt, and Joey had to bend over his old man’s knee, but he never gave the bastard the satisfaction of breaking down!
The summer he turned seventeen Joey had come in late after kicking a ball around with his mates; his dad flew into a rage and reached for his belt. Joey had finally had enough. Gripping his father’s arm, he stared into the face of the older man and with a calmness which he didn’t feel, he told his father that he’d been beaten for the last time. “If you take that belt from your trousers, I’ll use it on you.”
The icy tone in Joey’s voice must have had its desired effect; because his father never struck him again. But the emotional damage had already been done. Joey found it hard to trust anyone, learning not to show any outward sign of emotion.
“Sir?” The small voice from the doorway brought Joey back to the present.
“I’m sorry.” Joey led Kevin to the bed and indicated he should sit. “I’ll sort out some clothes.” Joey picked out an old T-shirt he’d outgrown, as well as a pair of tracksuit bottoms. “Here we go.” Joey pulled the T-shirt over Kevin’s head. He couldn’t help smiling as he watched the garment totally swallow up the smaller man. “These tracky bottoms have a draw-string, so at least they won’t fall off your waist.”