Message-ID: <7792eli$9801251942@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: The Naked Trucker Subject: Trucker Encounter VII: "Moving Day" (m/m/m) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Reply-To: NakedTrucker@juno.com Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <34CA7437.4AB8@juno.com> ---------------------------- Trucker Encounter VII: ---------------------------- "Moving Day" ---------------------------- By The Naked Trucker ---------------------------- (NakedTrucker@juno.com) ---------------------------- Thursday, December 4th. I had flown out to visit friends in Seattle when I was paged by John, a buddy from a major national moving company. Like many haulers, movers use many owner- operators to move household and office furniture across the country, and my buddy had sprained a shoulder and was unable to drive a load to the east coast. He asked if I would drive the load, and I gladly accepted. It had been a few months since I had done a cross-country run, and the thought of being paid to get back east instead of paying an airline to take me was an attractive one. I had never driven a household load, and was in for a few surprises. A cross-country moving van is not a straight truck (like local moving vans), it's a tractor-trailer like the ones used to haul countless other types of freight. I had seen them before, and one of the things I noticed was that the sleeper cabs tended to be bigger than on regular tractor-trailers. In fact, some of them look like they could almost be small houses, often two or three times the size of a normal condo sleeper. I arrived at the terminal to orient myself to the rig, and was in for a shock as I entered the tractor. It had a standard-size condo behind the cab, containing a a table and chairs with overhead storage cabinets on one side, and additional storage compartments on the other side along with a TV/VCR combination, refrigerator, and microwave oven. Behind the condo unit was an even bigger stand-up sleeper cab with four sleeper beds - two on each side of the rear unit. I quickly realized that I wouldn't be driving alone - the moving crew would be coming along with me to do the unloading at the new house of the family we were moving. These days, drivers drive. And that's all. Even when hauling standard freight, long-haul drivers generally don't have to load or unload their rigs. If a shipper or receiver doesn't load or unload cargo, the driver can hire "lumpers" to do the heavy work. The reason is that if a driver is injured while lifting heavy cargo, he is totally out of commission - he can't even drive. Therefore, because of the vigorous training that long-haul drivers go through in order to operate a big rig, the task of loading and unloading falls to others. Also, in the case of moving companies, loading itself requires special skills to ensure that household goods can be transported across the country without being damaged. I had a week to get the truck across the country, so I would be the only driver on this load. John had hired three guys through a local manpower office in Seattle to do the moving, loading the furniture and household items in Seattle and unloading it just outside Washington, D.C. The guys would then take a train back to Seattle and I would "deadhead" the truck to Philadelphia - driving it without freight - where John would fly in and pick it up for a return trip following a couple of weeks rest. I didn't relish the thought of sharing the truck with three strangers across the country. It's one thing to meet up with someone for an encounter along the road, but after it's over you can move on in your own space. At the same time, I knew that to move an entire household, you had to be in shape, and I was intrigued by the thought of who would be accompanying me for the ride. If appearances were anything, I wasn't disappointed. The guys arrived one by one and I got to meet them as each one loaded his gear onto the rig. Dave was the first to come on board, a 26- year-old hunk who had gotten his muscles the hard way - by lifting heavy furniture and boxes on a daily basis. Dave wasn't the classiest of guys, and my first impression was that it might be a challenge to keep him in line as we traveled. Neil would be the youngest of the crew - 20 years old, he was taking a year off from college to earn money for tuition and see some of the country by doing long-distance moves. And this was his first. Even though he was largely inexperienced, he was obviously intelligent - a stereotypical image of someone almost *too* intelligent to be involved in manual labor. The last to arrive, Jeff, was the most seasoned of the bunch in terms of the real world. At 38 years old, there was a cynical humor in his demeanor that could provide some entertainment for me in the driver's seat as we moved across the country. It was a diverse group, and I was quick to set down a few ground rules, the most important of which was, "Don't bug the driver when he's behind the wheel." We would be going straight through to the east coast, but at a relaxed pace. All three had been trained and experienced in moving households, but this was the first time they had been hired to do a cross-country move. It was also the first time that each one was doing an overnighter, as well as the first experience at traveling in a large tractor- trailer with a condo sleeper. After all three arrived, I spent the first hour orienting them to long-distance truck travel and the features in the condo. I also acquainted them with a few of the rules I had to follow, especially the drivers' hours-of- service rules set by the U.S. Department of Transportation that would dictate the pace we would go across the country. We drove out to the house where we would be picking up the freight, and while the three movers loaded the trailer I took the opportunity to rest up for the trip by catching some sleep. I took the lower bed on the left side of the sleeper, as it was shielded best from light coming in through the front of the cab and I was more comfortable sleeping on my right side. I was alive with anticipation of the seven-day trip across the country, and sleep didn't come easily. I also knew that it was the last time I would have to spend alone for the next several days, so I enjoyed a long stroking session while the others were loading the trailer to get my rocks off and help me get to sleep. It took about seven hours to load the truck. The cargo had to be checked and logged on moving forms, then packed into the truck in a manner that it would withstand the long trip. Load locks - bars that extend from one side of the trailer to the other to hold cargo in place - would have to be set up at occasional points to hold furniture and boxes in place, and the inside of the trailer would have to be loaded in a way that would maximize the space efficiency. It was early Thursday evening when we pulled out, stopping at a shopping center off of I-90 to hit a supermarket and stock up on coffee, sodas, snacks, and the other junk food that long-haul drivers and movers tend to live on. Then we hit the road, heading east on the interstate. Two hours out of Seattle, we pulled into a Flying J truck stop at Ellensburg to fuel up, weigh the load, and have dinner. After hitting the buffet and salad bar, we got back on the truck and I planned the routing for the trip while the guys took some time to store their stuff. As Dave stashed his gear on a shelf in the storage compartment, I saw a bottle of tequila in his bag and knew that my hunch was right. He would be the one to watch out for on this trip. "Hey, Dave," I said. "Sorry, dude, but that's got to go." "Awww, c'mon, man," he answered. "It's a long run, and I don't want to get bored. Besides, you don't have to drink it if you're driving." "That's not the issue," I replied. "The D.O.T. says that it's *my* ass in hot water if there's booze on board a commercial vehicle that I'm driving. If you don't want to waste it, party down before we hit the road." And that's what he did. Between himself, Neil, and Jeff, they downed the entire bottle of tequila before we left the Flying J parking lot and I watched him toss the empty bottle into a trash can outside the truck. And I had no complaint - at least the three of them would pass out and I'd have some quiet time as we headed out of Washington state. It was early Friday morning when we pulled into a truckstop in Butte, Montana. I was hitting my federally allowed maximum of ten hours of driving in a 24-hour period. The timing couldn't have been better - dawn had approached, and the sun was beginning to shine from the eastern sky directly into the truck. Dave, Neil, and Jeff were coming out of their stupor, and I was in need of a few hours sleep. I watched as they headed into the truckstop for showers and breakfast, then headed back to the sleeper for some rest. I awoke just before noon and grabbed my own shower kit, then headed into the truckstop to find the guys trying to out-perform each other in the video arcade. Even Neil, who seemed out of place in front of a Pacman machine, was trying his best to fit in with the other guys and proved adept at holding his own. I headed into a private shower room and, as I was standing under the hot water and soaping myself up, decided that I may as well have some fun on the road. As the driver, I was in somewhat of a position of authority, since I dictated the rules of the road in the tractor-trailer. And here I was, traveling with three hot-looking guys who were supposedly straight. And since I usually drive naked, I knew that I would get damn tired of having to wear clothes across the entire country. "Fuck it," I said. "Life has its risks, and getting some action from these guys could be an interesting challenge." I put on fresh clothes and joined the others for lunch. We'd head out around 3:00 in the afternoon, which would leave a full day's worth of driving before we would stop for the night in North Dakota. We boarded the truck and I began to catch up on my logbook, a federal requirement for commercial drivers. As I filled in the log, the guys checked out some of the features in the day condo. "Oh, fuck!" I turned around to see that Dave had taken a videotape from behind the combination TV/VCR unit. He asked, "What the fuck is this, a fag tape?" I looked at the video in his hands and read the words "hot gay action" on the cardboard box that held the video he found, the words appearing under a picture of two guys locked in a naked embrace next to a tractor-trailer. It seems that John, my buddy in Seattle who owned the truck, was into gay trucker porn and forgot to take the tape out after his last run. I was laughing my ass off. Neil blushed, as if it were the first time he had been confronted with a gay tape. Jeff smugly shook his head, smiled and said, "Hell, I guess it takes all kinds." Dave saw the humor in the situation and laughed himself. Then he said, "What the hell. I guess we have something interesting to watch if things get *too* boring." I finished my log, then pulled out of the truckstop as the guys hung out in the back and got to know each other. A deck of cards came out, and a poker game started that would keep them occupied for a few hours as I drove the long, tedious miles through the rest of Montana. We pulled off halfway through the day's drive at a truckstop with a fast food restaurant, fueled the rig, and bought sandwiches back on board to continue the run. It was 1 A.M. morning when I pulled off the road into a rest area on I-94 in North Dakota. The guys had gone to bed around midnight, and after catching up on my log I headed back toward the rear sleeper to do the same. "Fuck it," I thought, "at least I'm gonna sleep comfortably tonight." I removed all of my clothes and slid into my bunk, with sleep coming on rapidly. I woke up about four in the morning and heard a stir in the condo in front of the sleeper. The vinyl curtain between the two compartments had been drawn, and I could hear a combination of breathing and snoring coming from the other side of the sleeper. I guessed that Dave, who had taken the bunk above mine, was out in the condo, and I laid back for a few minutes enjoying the relative quiet of the night. We had the air vents on each side of the sleeper open, and the crisp night air was refreshing to wake up to. I heard a movement on the other side of the curtain, and got up to stretch. Sliding the curtain open a crack to look out into the condo, I saw Dave - sitting in a chair, buck ass naked, rock hard, and stroking his cock while the gay video played on the VCR. His hand was moving slowly and deliberately as his eyes fixed upon the TV screen, as if it were the first time he had seen hot action between guys. My own cock began to grow at the sight and I knew that if there were any potential of getting it on with Dave, it was when there was no chance for him to avoid acknowledging that he had the same curiosity that most guys deny to the hilt. I slowly, quietly opened the drape, stepped through, and closed the curtain behind me while the others continued to sleep. By this time I was working my own hard cock at the sight of Dave stroking his meat in front of the video. As he began to sense that he was no longer alone, I put my hand on his shoulder and quietly said, "Sssshhhhh." This would be the time for him and I to get to know each other - the others would come later. Dave was speechless. He was caught in the act and knew it. On the TV, the video was showing two guys in a hot fuck scene in, of all things, a tractor-trailer. Though the sound was turned down, the gist of the film was obvious - it *was* hot gay action at its best. If there was one thing I knew about fuck scenes in gay videos, it's that they generally followed a round of robust cocksucking. The scene never opens on fucking, it leads up to it. And if Dave had never sucked a cock before, he had obviously been watching enough of the video that he had seen it done. As he continued to slowly manipulate his meat, his glance moving between the video and my hard cock, I gently pulled his face toward me and whispered, "Do it, man. You know you want to try it." Dave looked toward me and placed his hand around my cock, turning away from the video as he began to slowly stroke my rod. I leaned back and looked down at him as he was fondling both of our cocks at once, and it took all of my effort to refrain from exploding then and there, knowing that we were getting it on as the other two guys slept in the back of the rig. As he continued stroking me, I gently pulled his head forward and quietly said, "Take it in your mouth. Go down on it, man." He began to lick the head of my cock before apprehensively taking my shaft into his mouth, continuing to hold my rod with his fist so he wouldn't gag. His increasingly bobbing head was bringing me closer to cumming, but I didn't want the scene to end yet. I slowly pushed him away and said, "Lean back." As he inclined in the chair, I got on my knees and took his own ample rod into my mouth, gently working his shaft with my tongue and licking his balls as I manipulated his cock with enough care that he wouldn't shoot his own load right away. I took the gamble that the video Dave had been watching included a 69 scene, and pulled him toward me as I backed down toward the floor of the condo. He quietly moved out of the chair and joined me on the floor, mouths to cocks, and we began the final scene of sucking each other's meat at the same time. His own mouth continued to ease up and he was able to take more of my shaft as I rode my own mouth up and down his rod, both of us trying to stifle making any noise that would wake up the others in the back. Moving closer to orgasm, we wrapped our arms around each other, by this time thrusting our cocks forward and grabbing each other tightly as our loads began to explode into each other's mouths. After we took each other's loads, I took his hand and just held it - a point of contact to reaffirm the closeness we had just experienced. We sat up, looked at each other in silent understanding, then stood and moved toward the front seats of the cab, where we lit cigarettes and enjoyed the silence. After a few minutes, we doused the cigarettes and, as we stood up to move back to the sleeper I quietly said, "We'll talk tomorrow, man." He nodded his understanding, and we want back to the sleeper and to our own bunks. Neil and Jeff woke up about 6 A.M. and went out to the condo section of the tractor, where they made a pot of coffee. The aroma woke me up shortly thereafter, and as I was putting on a pair of shorts I heard Dave stir in the upper bunk. I went out and got two cups of coffee, brought them back to the sleeper, and Dave hopped down and sat next to me on my bunk. As he sipped his coffee he quietly asked, "Do you think they know what happened last night?" "No," I answered, "they definitely slept through it." A few moments passed. "Do you think they get into this kind of shit?" "No. I don't think they've gotten into it any more than you ever did before last night." If it was ever possible for Dave to blush, that was the comment that did it. "Fuck. If you hadn't walked in on me like you did, I doubt that I ever would have gotten it on with another guy. Until I started watching that flick, I didn't even think about doing fag shit. Hell, if you had tried getting me to do that and I wasn't caught red-handed, I would have kicked the shit out of you." "Hey, man, life is full of surprises." He quietly smiled and continued sipping his coffee. "Do you think they would get into it at all?" "Why don't we find out? If things get boring, you can always pop that tape in while we're rolling." I watched him contemplate the possibilities. After doing my pre-trip inspection and updating my log, I rolled the truck back onto I-90 before turning onto I-94 toward North Dakota. The guys spent their time watching TV when we were in areas where we could receive any stations at all, reading, playing cards, and napping. Night had fallen by the time we entered North Dakota, and enough boredom had set in that I heard the suggestion that they could always watch the gay video and crack a few jokes. But the suggestion didn't come from Dave, it came from Jeff. The hour-long video was accompanied by a mix of hoots, cheers, jeers, laughter, and comments like, "Man, I can't believe this fucking shit." When the video ended, Dave and Jeff went back to the sleeper, and I could imagine Dave - as new to gay action as he was - trying to get Jeff into a sex scene. The scenes in the video were obviously new to Neil, the youngest of the bunch, and he was still trying to take it all in as he came up to the front of the cab and took the passenger seat to my right. Yet out of the side of my eye, I couldn't help but notice a prominent bulge in his jeans as he moved forward in the dark - a bulge that suggested that his own cock was hard. We made small talk for a while, then the conversation turned to the video he had just laughed his way through. "Hey, man, does that kind of stuff really happen to truckers?" "I'm not sure what you mean," I said, not having seen the video. "What was it about anyway?" "It was some story about a truck driver who runs around the country and picks up guys to fuck whenever he stops." "I've never met anyone like that," I said, thinking about the frequency the driver in the video must have kept up. Hell, I thought, you *can* get too much of a good thing. "Look," I said, if we run into a situation where guys are looking for truckers, I'll point it out to you." I knew, of course, that we were bound to do just that on the way back east. It was Saturday when we left North Dakota and pulled into Minnesota We had made excellent time thus far and decided to take a few hours off and hang out. I was ready for some sleep when we stopped, and as Dave and Jeff came out of the sleeper cab I caught a subtle nod and a wink from Dave. It was obvious that he and Jeff had a good time of their own while Neil and I were riding up front. Of course, that left Neil as the only uninitiated one in the group, but I felt that if given the opportunity he could get into a hot scene as quickly as the others had. As dusk began to fall, we headed out and pulled into a rest stop in eastern Minnesota around 10 P.M. Since it was a Saturday night, there were only two other trucks in the rest area, so we were able to park far away from any other vehicles. It was late enough, however, that there were several cars parked, and I knew that at least one of them would hold someone who was looking for trucker action. Dave and Jeff were playing cards at the table back in the condo, and Neil had joined me in the front of the cab. As the cool night air came into the darkened cab, I spied someone getting out of a pick-up truck in the car parking area and saunter around a tree where he could look over into our cab. "Remember," I asked Neil, "that I told you I'd point out when someone was cruising the truck? Well, check out the dude by that tree there." "How do you know that he's cruising?" Neil asked. The answer, of course, was "gaydar." But I didn't think Neil was ready to understand that notion, so I replied, "Don't ask. I just know." Dave and Jeff caught our conversation, and the condo behind us became silent. "Hey, guys," I called into them, "you think you're ready for a live replay of the video?" I can only imagine their looks from the momentary silence I heard before Jeff replied, "Sure, what the hell." "Hit the lights off," I said. "Neil, go back with the other guys and watch." As Neil joined the others, I stripped down and threw the t-shirt and shorts I was wearing to the back of the cab. I turned on the red light over the driver's seat, placed my log book in the compartment above the dashboard, lit a cigarette, and leaned back. Sure enough, a few minutes later, the guy who had left the pick-up truck wandered over to my truck door and asked, "How's it going?" "Not bad," I answered. "Tired and horny, but other than that, not bad." "I can't do much about being tired, but I may be able to help you out with the horny part," he said. Introducing himself as Wayne, he was wearing loose jeans and a sweatshirt - an outfit that would be easy to take off if he found the scene he was looking for. He was clearly used to servicing truck drivers, so I said, "I'll take you up on that, but I'm not alone. Are you into more than one at a time?" I didn't bother telling him that there were actually three guys sitting in the condo behind me, and I was betting that Dave, Neil, and Jeff were getting as horny as I was. "Sure," said Wayne, "I wouldn't mind some extra action." "C'mon in, dude." I opened the driver's door and stepped aside as Wayne climbed the steps into the cab. "You can start right here," I said, standing against the passenger seat as I guided his head toward my waiting cock. "Lose the clothes," I said as Wayne began to suck my hard cock. As he bent over he dropped his jeans, pulling them off with one hand, while I pulled the sweatshirt over his head so that we were both naked. As he continued to go down on my rod, I quietly opened the curtain between the driver's area and the condo. Wayne still couldn't see that there were three other guys watching us, and Dave - with whom I had already had an encounter - was the first to step forward with his own cock extending out of his jeans. "Go down on my buddy here," I said to Wayne, pulling back into the condo area myself. As I shielded Neil and Jeff from Wayne's view, they quietly stripped out of their own clothes, their cocks already sprung to attention. Dave, whose own cock was being worked by Wayne, pulled his shirt off to reveal his hard muscled body in the shadows in front of us. In the meantime, I was already reaching for the condoms and lube that were stashed in my bag - I knew we would be getting a lot of use out of them for the rest of the trip. I heard Dave's breathing get heavier in the front of the cab as he was expertly worked with Wayne's famished mouth. "Oh fuck," Dave cried out, "I'm gonna shoot!" He pulled Wayne's mouth further down on his shaft as a hot load of jism began to nourish Wayne's throat, Dave's hot sweat permeating the air in the cab. As Wayne removed his lips from the head of Dave's cock, I moved forward and led Wayne back to the rear sleeper cab, where Neil and Jeff were ready for some action of their own. "C'mon, man," I have a couple more buddies you can take care of." Jeff stood up and fed his cock into Wayne's mouth, while Neil reclined on one of the bunks and slowly stroked his meat at the sight of what was going on in front of him. As Wayne bent over to take Jeff into his hungry mouth, I began to massage his ass with one hand while I reached for a condom and some lube with the other. As he continued to go down on Jeff, I placed my own hard cock against the crack of Wayne's lubed-up ass and felt him begin to push back against my waiting meat. I entered slowly, holding his buttcheeks so he would have the leverage to continue working on Jeff's rod, and began to ride his ass with more force in each successive thrust. I could feel my own load ready to explode by this point, but was able to hold off until Jeff's increasingly heavy breathing told me that he was ready to fill Wayne's mouth with a load of his own. As we shot our loads together, Neil was still stroking his cock in awe of the scene in front of him. I gently pulled out of Wayne's ass, and as he began to stand up from his bent-over position I said, "No. Stay right there." I motioned for Neil to get up from the bed and guided him to stand behind Wayne. With one hand on Neil's shoulder, I placed a condom on his hard cock with my other hand, then guided him into Wayne's hungry ass, which was already well lubricated from the ramming he took from my own cock. Wayne cried out as Neil began to thrust his rod into Wayne's ass with a force that suggested the enormity of the load he was preparing to shoot. I stood behind Neil, bracing him as he pounded into Wayne, and by this time Dave was standing by, ready for a second round of butt-fucking action. I could feel Neil's entire body tense as he prepared to cum in Wayne's tight ass as I whispered into his ear, "Do it, man. Fill his tight ass with your hot load." Neil cried out as his cock exploded in Wayne's butt, then he fell back against my body bracing him in the now-steaming sleeper cab. Wayne fell forward onto the bunk as Neil and I pulled away, only to have his ass filled once again by Dave's now stiff rod. Dave had watched the other three of us get off, and began to mercilessly ram Wayne's well-worked asshole. Wayne rose onto his knees as Dave, behind him, continued to pound into his sore ass. As Wayne thrust his ass backward to take Dave's cock he was furiously stroking his own meat, knowing that the rest of us were taking in every move. As sweat poured from both of them, Wayne cried out, "I'm gonna cum, guys!" "Me too!" shouted Dave, as their cocks burst with their loads at the same time. Wayne dressed and headed out into the brisk Minnesota night. As he left he said, "Thanks, guys. That was the hottest action I've ever seen on a truck, and I'll be jerking off to this one for weeks." After he left, the four of us looked at each other with one thing on our minds: sleep. We opened the windows at he front of the cab and the vents in the sleeper to clear the sleeper of the hot man sweat that pervaded the air, and then we all fell asleep on the bottom bunks - Dave and me on the left side of the sleeper, and Neil and Jeff across from us. When morning came, we headed down the road a few miles to a truckstop off I-94, where we grabbed showers and had some breakfast. As we boarded the truck to continue the run, I said to them, "Well, guys, I'll be busy driving. If you get bored, do you think you can find something to keep you occupied?" We all laughed as I pulled back onto the highway and headed east toward Wisconsin. Needless to say, by this time we all knew each other well enough that I was back in my usual driving uniform - naked. We continued the journey, crossing over into Ohio early Tuesday evening. The sucking and fucking had continued across the midwest, and by the time we hit Ohio we were all in need of a shower. We figured that by the time we all stopped and paid for showers at a truckstop it almost pay for the cost of a motel room, so we pulled off the Ohio Turnpike at Exit 3 where I was able to park the truck next to a small motel, then I went in an got a room with a king-size bed. We had slept over the past few days in various combinations, and it would be nice to have a large bed that would fit the four of us comfortably. We showered, we ate, we caught some TV . . . Dave even managed to pick up a case of beer so the guys could down a few while they were off the truck. I could tell you that it was a hot, long night of raw, raunchy sex, but the reality was that we were comfortable enough with each other that it wasn't the top priority at that point. Well, except for a guy named Paul. Paul was staying at the same motel about four rooms down from us, and as we were attacking a couple of pizzas that Dave had brought back with the beer, Paul passed by the open window of our room and subtly glanced in. Jeff and I were on the bed, Neil and Dave were sitting on chairs, and more than one of us already had removed our shirts. A few minutes later Paul wandered by again. And about ten minutes after that, again. And each time he passed the room, he would discreetly try to get a glimpse of the four of use hanging around. When he passed by the fourth time, Jeff opened the door to our room and said, "Is there something you're looking for, dude?" Paul stammered and said that he was just out for a walk, and Jeff looked him straight in the eyes and said, "Look. You've got four horny guys right here who are ready to give your ass some hot action. Is that what you're looking for?" Paul's face flushed as he caught his breath at Jeff's direct approach. Then he overcame his hesitation and said, "Yes." And we were happy to accommodate him. Twice. Each. And sent him happily along his way as the four of us crawled into the king-size bed together for a good night's sleep. In the morning, we headed out across Ohio and into Pennsylvania, picking up I-70 east toward Baltimore, and pulling into a truckstop in Frederick, Maryland, for our final night on the road together. The only thing we hadn't done thus far is ram each other's asses, but that was taken care of on that final night in Frederick as the sleeper cab filled with our sweat once again. In various combinations, we had proven to be a four-man team, both on and off the road. After showering in the morning, we drove the short remainder of the run into suburban Washington, where I caught up on sleep from the drive while the others unloaded the truck. I dropped them at a nearby Metro station, where they would head into the city to Union Station and return to Seattle by train. Except for Dave. He accompanied me back to Philadelphia, where we spent a few days at my place before John, the owner of the truck, flew in to drive the rig back west. As I introduced John and Dave, they seemed to hit it off as good as the rest of us had, and we got to know each other better as a group of three before I watched them hit the road, heading toward the Pennsylvania Turnpike. -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ |