The Lumper - A Joe Buck Story by Rick Beck    Flagstaff
Joe Buck, Trucker Extraordinaire
by Rick Beck

The Lumper - A Joe Buck Story by Rick Beck

Joe Buck, American Trucker
Bad Weather Driving
Rated G

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When I arrived at the warehouse, it was just shortly after 6a.m. on a Saturday morning. Once I had backed up to the dock, I was waved into the warehouse by the dock-foreman.

"Come on in, get a cup a Joe. Our lumper'll be in to do the unload shortly. We should have you out of here by ten or eleven."

"That's fine. I doubt I'll get loaded out until Monday, so I'm in no rush."

I followed him back through the warehouse until we were in the break room. There were two coffeepots going and on the table next to them were boxes of donuts. The coffee was a bit weak but the donuts came with it, and that made all the difference. I usually didn't get anything to eat until I completed the unload and by that time my stomach was in mild rebellion against the trucker's lifestyle. I tried to stay away from the warehouse vending machines if it was at all possible, because there was no way to know which century they were stocked last.

The Lumper - A Joe Buck Story by Rick Beck

When Tony showed up, I was surprised to get dessert with the donuts. When I found out he was the lumper my entire day took on new meaning. He was a polite boy, a college sophomore, working on Saturdays to help buy his books and supplies. That wasn't so much a surprise as his appearance. He was built on a thin but sturdy one hundred and fifty-pound frame and he stood about five eleven. His eyes were deep blue and they played well against his shinny black hair that had been cut short and with precise styling.

He wore an orange tank top, which just barely reached the pair of faded and cutoff jeans. They too seemed to be precisely cut to his body and he filled them in a convincing way. The most interesting part of his wardrobe, the cutoffs, were cut high up on his long muscular thighs, and being cut that high meant it took no time at all to get to the bulge which left little to the imagination, mine anyway. The dock foreman seemed oblivious to everything but the jelly filled donuts he wolfed down.

Tony went to the vending machine and fed in his coins until he could retrieve something wet and cold. That gave me ample time to notice how the tank top hugged his shapely torso and to once more study how cutoff those cutoffs were.

"That my truck?" he finally said to the dock foreman, unaware of me sitting there being aware of him.

"Yep! This gentlemen's load. We have two more coming in but it's too hot for you to do more than one today. I called Trent for the next one."

"Time to get to work," Tony said.

"Looks like you dressed for the occasion, Tony. It's supposed to be 110 degrees today. Best you get started. It was close to ninety last time I looked."

"Yes, sir," Tony said, drawing the words out like only a Dallas kid could.

He glanced at me once he noticed I noticed his wardrobe for longer than it should take to know he was dressed for the heat. Perhaps they were clothes from his youth he was still trying to wear or maybe he didn't want to whack off the legs of another pair of jeans or use another tank top for work. That's not all I wondered about him whacking off either.

Lots of things came to mind to explain the way the boy was dressed but the last thing was the bulge he used his hand on right after checking my eyes. Once he finished pulling on it for me, he was heading for the door, slapping his gloves across the palm of his hand.

I spend my life behind the wheel of a big rig, mostly moving-on, but there were times when I was happy to be sitting still. Tony would make this occasion special as well as memorable. Even though I already had my eye on him, I had no way of knowing he might find cause to remember our meeting as fondly as I did. In fact this was ordinary as meetings go, but there was nothing ordinary once I got to the way he looked and dressed.

I thought that perhaps his initial glance was more than a casual affair but wishful thinking was often a part of the unloading process once I got a good look at my lumper. Mostly they turned out to only be there for the work. Tony and I had chemistry but I wasn't sure if it was simply a pleasant blend or if it might prove to be a more volatile reaction.

I stood to follow him once he turned out the door and headed for the back of my truck. I would have followed him no matter where he was going. I would have followed him just to watch him move inside those shorts, and might I add, I was even more encouraged when I saw that the rear of those cutoffs fit him every bit as tightly as the front.

This was truly one of the good days even if he only turned out to be eye candy.

"You don't need to help. He's paid to sweat," the dock foreman said casually as I turned out the door.

"No," I said. "I'm responsible for any damage."

"Suit yourself. Can't promise you any donuts will be left when you're done."

He seemed indifferent to what ever I did as he latched onto another choice pastry.

Tony moved away from the break room with me ten paces behind. It was obvious he wasn't going to waste any time. The sun now lighted the warehouse completely now that all of the doors had been opened and Tony was bathed in the light as he went directly to where I had backed up to the dock.

The heat was already building inside and after an initial inspection of the freight, Tony pulled off his tank top and tossed it at the corner of the trailer near where I stood. He sat down his soda and pulled on his gloves as he looked in at the three hundred boxes. He turned his head to glance back to see if I was there but the quick look he gave me told me he knew exactly where I was standing and he was just checking to see where I was looking. Maybe he was just checking to see if his shirt landed on my boots.

That was twice he'd checked to see if my eyes were on him. I'm happy to say they were exactly where he expected to find them. I saw no reason to look away. He was non-committal in what he was thinking but I had no such affliction. Most guys give it away with their eyes and I was one of those. It only took a second for him to know what I was looking at and he looked away.

A guy who isn't interested in any heavy lifting need only look at you once to see what's on your mind. It's only when he in interested in finding out what you enjoy lifting that he takes a second look. Most of the lumpers never took a second look but Tony had now checked to see if I was checking him more than once and that opened the door to the possibilities.

His body maintained a consistent theme with light skin covering long thin muscles that were efficient but didn't get in the way when he moved. Like his dark lips, his nipples were deep rose and perfectly shaped, not quite the size of quarters but larger than your average nickel. They were conveniently centered in the middle of a nicely cut chest, nothing audacious just well shaped and plenty large enough to get your arms around.

It was July in Dallas, and the thought of delivering Charm Glow fireplaces seemed odd. AT the peak of summer temperatures my last thought would be of a fireplace, but they were the in-thing and Christmas was only five months off. Tony had no questions about the load and he immediately went to yanking the top row off the three high stacks of boxes. Each box weighed in at sixty-five pounds, and he showed no strain from the weight, but there were three hundred.

He obviously knew what he was doing, and I watched the beads of sweat forming on his shoulders and running down the muscles that flexed with each motion. He seemed adept at his technique and wasted no motion. In thirty minutes he had two pallets filled and was working on the third, showing no signs of wearing down.

It was only after the first two rows were off that he stopped his methodical motion. Fifty down, two fifty to go, I thought, knowing the count and how many rows it took to make up a load of Charm Glows Fireplaces. Speaking of which, his skin glowed with a red hue under the dampness, which had his cutoffs half soaked in his own sweat. He glanced my way and held it for no longer than he had before, but this time he was heading for the door, leaping onto the ground beside the trailer.

I wondered if it might be something I said. I watched as he went to his car, which he had conveniently parked directly in front of my truck. I couldn't see what he was doing after he opened the car door but he brought back a towel, drying the back of his head as he walked back. He glanced up to see if my eyes were on him and it surprised him when I reached down for his hand, pulling him back up on the dock. He nodded his gratitude, holding the look this time, checking my eyes for more than what direction they were directed.

"Thanks," he said, bending to dry his lower legs free of sweat. His voice was mellow and relaxed but he had this irresistible way of making his few words count.

As he dried himself his face was maybe a foot from my crotch and it seemed even closer to the source of stimulation for my overactive imagination. I watched his movements while wondered what he might be hiding under those cutoffs.

He stood up after carefully drying each ankle and pulling up his soggy socks. I hadn't moved and he didn't move. We now got a good look at each other and I could feel the heat coming off his body. I wondered if he could feel the heat coming off of mine? It was hard working undressing someone with your eyes.

I didn't get to see that many hot young dudes up close and personal, so I took advantage of the situation when it presented itself. Once I was sure he knew that I was admiring him, I smiled and shrugged so he'd know I was harmless, unless he wanted to go for something more risky. I still couldn't read anything beyond the possibility he knew I found him attractive.

I got no reaction except the same look he had given me the other times he caught my eyes on him. He still had a truck to unload and I didn't want to piss him off before it was done. The second shrug was just for me. A guy can dream kind of shrug attached to my warmest smile.

"You must work out," I said just after his arm brushed mine as he passed on his way back into the trailer.

There was plenty of room for him to avoid any physical contact, but he used none of it and let my imagination continue to work overtime. I didn't want to keep watching him but the way his butt moved inside those jeans, made it hard not to keep track of where he was.

"What makes you say that," he asked as he bent for the soda and finished it off. He tossed the can down beside the trailer and bent to move his previously discarded shirt closer to the trailer doors.

"You don't look in the mirror very often, do you?" I said, taking the opening he left for me.

"Yeah, but it's my body. I look to make sure I'm keeping it nice. Once you hit twenty, it's all down hill from there."

"I'd say you've done a fine job. I'd say you're good to go until at least thirty, but that's just my opinion."

"Can I use that endorsement on my resume or do I still need to unload you?" He asked.

"Most lumpers are unshaven, overweight, and fragrant beyond your wildest dreams," I said, leaning on one of the boxes he had unloaded but breaking eye contact long enough to make sure no one was following our conversation.

He did a quick glance around at the same time I did.

"Most of the truckers I unload for are fat, old, and ugly," he said, smiling at me reassuringly to let me know he didn't put me in that group.

I smiled back.

"It's difficult staying in shape while you're behind the wheel twelve hours a day. Finding time for a good work out is hard," I advised him.

"I'm not the only one doing a fine job, huh? Lots of things are hard," he said, and this time he smiled. "There are lots of ways to get a good workout."

He stood tall, facing me full on before he dried himself off one more time, raising first one arm and then the other to reveal the fluff of black hair under each. It was difficult not to notice that at his belly button were rabbit tracks, lighter in color than under his arms, and they dove towards the prize that hung so attractively down the right side of his cutoffs.

Now I'd seen bigger bulges in guys his age but size is greatly overrated. For his size, his size was just perfect, although it didn't matter to me what size he was. He tracked my eyes each time he worked on a different part of his body. He put the towel directly over his crotch and seemed to wait for a reaction before he dried those long shapely thighs of his.

He knew he had my attention and he loved it. He reached out for my arm as he used me to balance himself as he lifted one leg to carefully dry one calf and then the other. My eyes had absolutely no trouble at all keeping up with him. Most guys, even gay guys, were way too uptight to do the things Tony did with that towel.

I knew it was nothing at all except in my own mind. I had been around teases before but when you put the eyes with the moves it was a dance we danced, and he had all the right moves. I thought it might lead to no more than being left with an over active imagination but I had a hunch he was as curious about me as I was about him. Touching someone was way different than watching them and he had deliberately touched me twice and I'd only used my eyes up until then.

"Well, I got work to do. Maybe we can chat once I'm done. He says this is my only truck today and I love hearing trucker's stories. That's about my favorite thing about working here. Meeting truckers. I don't get to meet many like you. They're mostly old dudes with old stories. I bet yours are more up to date."

"You still listen to their stories even if they're old?" I inquired.

"Like I said, I'm a sucker for a trucker, so to speak. Old is better than no, and besides, they leave feeling appreciated. I've kind of made it my hobby after being in class with children all week."

"And when they leave you feel...?"

He looked at me a second and the smile was gone. I could see him thinking.

"Satisfied! I'd say satisfied over a job well done."

"I'll probably have until Monday," I said, turning toward the warehouse and leaning my back on the row of boxes he'd already unloaded. "It's the pits not having anyone to hang with when I lay over a couple of days."

"Maybe I can fix that," he said. "I've got a thing this afternoon but until Monday, I'm free other than that. I could show you around if you like. I'm Tony by the way."

"I'm Joe Buck," I said, taking his hand in mine.

"Hello Joe," he said, trying out my name and my eyes before he placed the clean towel on top of the orange tank top before going back in the trailer.

"Hello back," I said, thinking thoughts that had nothing to do with a truck.

"It's going to get hot," he said, reaching up to start the next row.

"Yeah," I agreed, "I'll let you get a few rows out, and I'll help you get the ones up toward the nose. It will cut down the time you spend in there."

"Thanks," he said, reaching for another box. "Most guys stay back in the break room until later. They got air back there they turn on about this time."

"I didn't lose anything back there," I said.

We pulled off the next two rows, ninety-six Charm Glows down. They were now stacked neatly on pallets that had been placed in an arch around the back of the trailer. There was a thirty degree difference between the warehouse and the trailer by nine. We both came out and I leaned on the door.

He reached for his towel but it was quickly as damp as he was. He blotted his face wearily and started on his chest. He was too hot to notice my eyes any longer.

"I'll get your back for you," I offered. "We're making a dent in it."

He immediately held out the towel and turned around. I made sure I felt his delicate smooth skin as I wiped. He leaned back a little as he felt my hands on his bare skin. It was then the back of his cutoffs came in contact with the front of my pants for the first time.

I'm still not sure if it was intentional or just one of those unintended consequences. My first reaction was a reflex that almost had me backing up, but I caught myself before breaking the contact. My second reaction, well, it was predictable and swift. Either he felt it or he suspect it would be there, because the back of his cutoffs started to undulate in a slow easy grind.

I smelled his hair and wiped him down, after making sure the boxes had us hidden. I listened carefully for the sound of someone walking nearby, but all the sounds were distant and well separated from what was going on behind the pallets of boxes.

He sure knew how to get a guy's attention or maybe that should be to attention.

I helped him ease his body back more firmly against me. By now I was completely erect and had one arm around his thin waist. I used the towel on his chest while I was there, wiping the sweat as it flowed off him. He put his hand on my forearm and guided my hand downward until I was touching the front of his cutoffs. He was as erect as I was and he needed to show me as he used his ass on the front of my pants. I gave up the towel to squeeze his cock but I couldn't give up the idea of how crazy and dangerous this was.

"That's so nice. I get so horny when I get sweaty," he sighed. "Do you get horny when you get sweaty?" He reached behind and found the front of my pants with his fingers and he squeezed and massaged me. We just stood there exciting each other as the day grew hotter, not to mention us.

I tried not to seem too anxious as I felt the entire length of his cock. He wiggled his ass some more and moaned real deep in his chest as he leaned on me.

"We'd better finish," he said weakly. "We've still got more than half to go and it'll be the hot half. Then we'll have plenty of time for this."

"You telling me," I said, squeezing it firmly so I could feel him twitch while listening to another soft moan.

"Oh man, I need it so bad. It's been a long time. School and all. I don't get to meet any real men at school."

"You don't meet guys at school?" I asked.

"Children. There's a couple of professors I like ... but they're married. It makes it harder when they're married."

"I don't know how it could get much harder," I said.

"That's about right. You don't know how long it's been. Mostly they just want quickies. Having someone hold me is awesome."

"How often do you unload trucks?" I asked.

"I've been away since school was out. At my grandparents. I haven't done a truck since last summer, I guess. Or a trucker," he added, glancing back at me.

He turned around and took the towel and hid the front of his bulging jeans in a sudden moment of bashfulness. "Damn thing has a mind of its own. Thanks! I mean that was nice."

"Tell me about it," I said, moving my hand down so he could see mine poking out the pocket of my pants.

He smiled.

"I need some water. I got some in a cooler in my car. Want some? We'll take our break and then knock the rest of this trailer off."

"Yeah," I said, following him off the dock. "Water is good."

He reached in the cooler and pulled out two plastic bottles, yanking the top off one before handing me the other. I opened it and tossed my head back as the cold liquid soothed my parched throat. Just about three gulps in, I felt his hand rubbing roughly on the front of my pants. He leaned his face forward and opened his mouth, nibbling me through the material to excite me further.

I almost lost it right then. It hadn't been last summer for me but it had been last month and it was hard to stay out on the road not knowing when a Tony might come strolling into my life.

"Take it out," he ordered. "No one can see with me parked here. The truck's in the way. Please. I just want to see it. It'll give me something to look forward to during the unload. I'll make it worth your while."

"Jesus," I said. "We've got the weekend. I need a shower. We should wait. I've never done it in parking lot during an unload."

"Oh, man. You need an unload bad," he moaned, kissing the head and feeling the shaft as my knees started to buckle while his mouth enveloped me with his lavishing lips and tongue swallowing hard.

I really wasn't going to let him do it to me there. It was way risky and it was broad daylight. What if someone came looking for us? What if a car came around the corner of the building? What if I came in his mouth right now? Oh man, this guy was good.

He led with his tongue and all but had it wrapped around my dick head. Once he'd slobbered all over it, he took just the head, sucking gently and he kept that tongue moving. I couldn't believe it was happening. I hadn't been sure anything would happen until he leaned back against me, and then, it just accelerated to this. We'd been on a fast track and I was reaching the end of the line.

"I really need a shower," I protested as he sucked beyond the unconvincing protest.

"Yeah," he said, going right back down on me even further.

It might have been a while since he did anything, but he had no trouble picking it back up. He was now jerking himself off and sucking me at the same time, and I must admit it was hot, standing there in front of the warehouse in the middle of an unload, unloading for his eager mouth.

He leaned back when all was said and done, his cum dripping down his already wet chest as mine dripped down his throat. It was damn nice letting his door hold me up as I swooned from the experience. Damn convenient having a lumper that was so versatile.

I'd never had better service anywhere.

He leaned back on the seat on one elbow once he was done with me, tucking his away after catching his breath, and reaching for a dirty shirt on the passenger side floor. He wiped his chest and then his lips, watching as mine hung out of my zipper, slowly softening in the hot Dallas breeze.

"See, now we can work without thinking about what we're going to do the rest of the weekend. It's always best to get the first one out of the way ... don't you think? Sometimes I can't get my mind off it anyway."

"You telling me," I said, zipping up as he frowned.

"You got a nice one," he advised me. "I like the ones with well developed heads. You know you got a cock in your mouth, you know. That's what I like best."

"Well developed lips are nicer," I said.

He smiled and licked his.

"Thanks," I said. "That was very nice of you."

"Yeah, for starters. I'll just let your imagination work on what I'll do for you tonight. You do have one of those sleeper things on your truck?"

"Sure," I said, watching those blue eyes watch me.

"You can show me once we're done with the load," he said, standing and starting back toward the warehouse. I closed the door of his car and followed him. My day had taken on a totally new perspective.

You just never know when good things are going to happen.

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"The Lumper" Copyright © 28 September 2002 OLYMPIA50. All rights reserved.
    This work may not be duplicated in any form (physical, electronic, audio, or otherwise) without the author's written permission. All applicable copyright laws apply. All individuals depicted are fictional with any resemblance to real persons being purely coincidental.

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