Part 1: Dealing Out “Breaker one nine,” came the hail, sweet and boyish in the Illinois night. Tom listened, tempted for one absurd moment to pick up the squawker and holler back, “Is that you, Teddy Bear?” A Torquere Press Arcana - 1 .
Great, just what he didn't need, Red Sovine's sentimental malarkey stuck as an earworm. He turned up the rock and roll a little louder to drown out his memory of the mawkish treacle and tapped the steering wheel in time to “Hot Blooded.” “How are things out on the road tonight?” The voice cut through the silence as song faded out to be replaced by Black Sabbath's “Paranoid.” Tom considered turning the CB off, but the next words changed his mind. “Sure wish I could be out there.” Tom turned down Ozzy and the boys and picked up the mike at that. “Hello, Teddy Bear. Need a ride? What exit do I take to get to Jackson Street, 229?” he asked, quoting the song. The voice laughed at the reference, impossibly sexy. “This is the Midnight Flyer. I'm just stuck at home sick and hoped somebody would want to talk at this obscene hour.” “You got the Rainbow Rider. If you want to be obscene, come on back." The Flyer laughed. "Hi, Rainbow. What's the weather?" "All clear all night. Lotsa stars, a big fat moon and not a bear in sight." "Uh, Rainbow?" came another voice, sounding distant and crackly, "And all you westbounders on 70. You got a picture-taker 'bout two miles this side of the Missouri Line. Comb your hair and smile pretty now." "Thank you, driver," Rainbow said. "Now, Midnight, does your daddy know you're up this late and playing with his CB?" The sexy voice laughed again and Tom wondered what he looked like. "I'm older than I sound. Which way you bound, Rainbow?" "Heading in to get my picture took in a couple hours. I'm not far from Effingham. Why? You an f'ing lot lizard? Wanna meet me at the TA?" "The name's Midnight Flyer, not CB Savage, and when I'm well, I'll meet you for a cup of coffee." A chorus of "whoo" and "faggot" erupted from the other drivers on the channel. Tom hit squelch for a moment and then broke in. "Takes a real man to fuck a man." That brought a deafening round of offers to meet him at the Effingham TA and kick his ass. He laughed over the air, the powerful antenna on his truck drowning out every CB for a fourteen- mile radius. "You only want to kick it because you're not man enough to lick it. Night, Midnight Flyer." He clicked the CB off until he hit St. Louis. He made his usual delivery of glass to a warehouse in East St. Louis, and thought about the Flyer as he parked at the Pilot. Sexy voice and he sounded so young. Tom smiled and stroked himself. A Torquere Press Arcana - 2 .
He liked them young, just barely legal. He hoped the kid was well when he made his return trip. It wasn't the coffee he was interested in. He ran his hand over his cock, tugging just a little, wondering what Midnight Flyer looked like. Just his luck, the kid would be a fox-jaws, really sexy sounding, but spotty and scrawny and greasy. Despite the image, he kept rubbing. He didn't care if the kid was ugly. He could make the truck really dark if he had to. As long as the Flyer talked to him, begging him for more, he'd come off like a fountain. As he imagined sinking into the Flyer's tight ass, he came all over his hands. *** He walked into the chapel in the innermost part of his home and knelt before the altar. As he played the tape he'd made of the conversation, the flames in the eternally burning brazier formed the face of a handsome man with a sharp nose and dimpled chin. Perfect. He placed a block of wood on the altar and ran his hands over it. “Rainbow Rider,” he whispered. “My Rainbow Rider.” The wood shaped itself into a semi, and the model turned red where he touched it. The brazier flared blue. A Torquere Press Arcana - 3 .
Part 2: Checking the Hand Tom usually made the run between Toledo and St. Louis five times in two weeks. Now, every time he got within hailing distance of Effingham, he'd start listening for the Midnight Flyer. But the Flyer was only on at night, and after a few weeks, Tom had reworked all of his trip planning so that he, too, was only in Effingham by night. Once the Flyer hailed him, and he'd come on, they'd take it down to channel seven where they could talk without the general cross-chatter of nineteen. “So, you got a little woman at home?” Tom had been considering that possibility since he'd started talking to the Flyer. It never hurt to ask, although he suspected parents were far more likely, despite the Midnight Flyer's claims that he was older than he sounded. “No, no woman.” The Flyer's chuckle held an undercurrent of darkness that Tom wasn't sure he liked. “Not really old enough to get married. And women never appealed too much. The night- time type like me are all pale and gothy. I can do without that.” When his sultry little voice, hot and heavy as a summer's night, said things like that, Tom's cock sat right up and took notice. He grinned like a fool, secure in the knowledge the Flyer couldn't see him, and half-wishing he could. He'd love to see the kid's reaction to his hard-on just from sexy words. “How about you? Is there a woman behind the man behind the wheel?” The Flyer asked, quoting another old Red Sovine song. Tom winced. He wasn't enough of a fogey to really like the old truck driving music. If he had to have something truck oriented, it would be AC/DC's “Highway to Hell” or Sammy Hagar's “I Can't Drive 55.” “Of course there is. But she's probably not too happy with me most of the time.” Tom didn't like to think about Marybeth, living in Jerusalem Township in an apartment he paid for, when he was talking to the Flyer. He stopped in every time he was in Toledo for a couple of days. Lately, she'd been getting pushy about getting married. He couldn't blame her. After fourteen years, most people got married. He liked things like they were. There was no sense getting married if they weren't going to have kids. “Oh? You on the road a lot? Or do you fool around too much with pretty boys. like me?” The Flyer's voice teased through the Illinois darkness and the CB static, making Tom groan as his cock protested, reminding him of the fact they'd left Marybeth two days ago and hadn't jacked off since. “I fool around with pretty boys and girls. And staying on the road works better than setting her up in a house for two. I can't be tied down.” “Not married then,” the Flyer said, and the voice sounded like pure invitation. Tom's cock was wide awake now and nosing at the zipper of his jeans rather insistently. He was coming up on the rest area. He checked it, but at this hour, every slot was full, as well as the shoulder and both ramps all the way to the interstate. A Torquere Press Arcana - 4 .
“Not technically.” He flew past the rest area and promised his cock a nice long session later on. “Oh, you sexy thing. Don't be technical. Do you love her? No, never mind that. Who do you drive for?” “I own my own rig. I'm leased to Freightways.” Tom patted the armrest of the Rainbow Rider fondly. He'd named the truck after a day when he'd seen three rainbows touching the ground and then glanced in the mirror to see two more in the spray from his tires. Three Dog Night had been singing “Joy to the World,” and he'd realized he was a rainbow rider like in the song, his truck running on the multi-colored streams of light. It was a whimsical thought and Tom was not a whimsical man, so he considered it fate and ran with it. “Your own truck.” Midnight Flyer sounded awed. “Wow.” “It's an old Freightliner. Not much to look at except that it's red and I had a rainbow painted on the sleeper.” He was kind of embarrassed by that. It wasn't just a rainbow, it was a semi rolling down a rainbow highway, and it all looked very 1970s and cartoon-trippy. He'd thought about painting it over more than once, but he knew he'd miss it if it were gone. “Ooo, longnose? Like you? Long and red and hard-topped?” Tom laughed over the mike. Midnight Flyer was in a mood tonight. “You'll have to come meet me and find out.” The Flyer returned the laugh. “Maybe someday. For all I know you could be sixty and ugly as homemade sin.” “I don't believe in sin,” Tom said. “Ah, good, neither do I.” They teased and flirted for another twenty miles. Then the Flyer sighed. “Rainbow, sugar, you're breaking up. Get a bigger. antenna. And I'll do the same.” Tom laughed to himself and clicked the mike. “Until next tomorrow, then.” “Think sexy thoughts and drive safe.” A very static-y addition of “Check your e-mail,” made Tom smile. He'd given the Flyer his e-mail last week, and ever since, he'd been getting sweetly sexy and rather cute e-mail from his late-night chat buddy. The Flyer's real name was Pelton, which was nice, in an old-fashioned sort of way. After the delivery, he parked and checked, only to find a picture of a smiling youth with wild brown hair, gorgeous cheekbones and a very pouty little mouth, titled “me.” Tom nibbled the end of his mustache as he contemplated this sight, trying busily to ignore his cock, which was getting all demanding again. A Torquere Press Arcana - 5 .
He found a recent picture of himself on his laptop. He examined it critically. Having a full head of wavy brown hair and a still-flat stomach put him ahead of most other men his age. No, he wasn't sixty and ugly, but he still looked thirty-six, and therefore much older than Pelton. He hoped it didn't matter. Tom attached the file and replied to the e-mail with the subject line “Rainbow Rider.” The next night, he fired up the CB early to catch every second of Pelton's voice. Just as he got in range of Effingham, he caught it. “Breaker one-nine for the Rainbow Rider. You out there? Come back.” “Just the voice I wanted to hear,” Tom came back. “Let's walk it down to our private hideaway. We don't need these white-line jockeys eavesdropping.” “Let's.” Tom shifted down to seven. “Hello, handsome,” Pelton purred. “You like the picture?” “I have it out so I can look at it all day and all night.” Pelton giggled. “The picture or your cock?” “The pic. But that other's not a bad idea, either.” Tom shushed his cock, since it had snapped to attention when Pelton addressed it. “Mmm, do you have a really nice one? Mine's not bad, kinda ordinary.” “Oh yeah. Nice and long,” Tom said. He wasn't exaggerating. “Could be a little thicker, though.” “I like long.” “Do you? So that means you're going to come meet me now? I can surely pull off at the rest area or at the TA.” “Not tonight,” Pelton demurred. “But yes, we'll have to meet. Soon, I think.” Tom felt his slowly decreasing arousal flare to new life at Pelton's promise. “You've got a really sexy voice. Give me your phone number and I'll say all the things I can't say on an open channel.” Another voice, not sweet like Pelton's, cut in. “Yeah, take it private, faggots.” Tom laughed over the air. “Jealous.” “Fuck you,” snarled the other driver. “I can beat you. You westbound?” A Torquere Press Arcana - 6 .
“Yes.” Tom had just passed through Effingham headed east. “Good luck with that.” “I'm stationary,” Pelton offered. “You can't beat my ass, but you can fuck it if you want.” He made his voice go all girly and lilting and stretched “want” over three different notes. “Fags.” The other driver clicked off. Tom laughed again. “Does that offer extend to me?” “Oh, no. I have a better one for you. I was going to offer to make love.” “Even better. Been waiting a long time for you now. Three months and all I got is a picture.” “I know. Soon, darling. Some evening, you'll come out of the truck stop and find me leaning against the side of your Freightliner.” “I'll be waiting for that evening, pretty thing. Send more pictures. I can send more back. I have a new camera phone.” “I'd love one. You have my e-mail.” Pelton hesitated and then asked, sounding very shy, “Can I call you on that camera phone?” “You can, indeed. I'll email you my number when I get parked.” He went quiet for a few minutes as he pulled off on the shoulder of an exit ramp and then sent his number to Pelton. “You should have it. I've got a couple pictures. Hope they're good.” “Got it.” Pelton sounded faint and almost out of range. “How's your signal bars?” “Full. Just like me. Pictures are coming your way, too.” “Please, get one of the pot of gold at the end of the Rainbow Rider, too,” Pelton teased. “I'll send some good ones along.” “Call me, Flyer,” Tom said as he got back on the interstate and adjusted the headset of his phone. He didn't masturbate behind the wheel, but he preferred the headset even when he didn't have to shift or turn.
Part 3: Losing Once Call him, Pelton did. And Tom returned it often enough that he had to change his cell phone plan in order to not run out of minutes. That sweet, sexy voice kept him rolling across Indiana and Illinois, accompanied him into the berth and brought him off almost every night. “Afraid every time I call you, I'm gonna get your daddy on the line,” Tom said one night when Pelton picked up. He was parked in East St. Louis, and lying naked in the berth, the privacy curtains drawn and the bunk-heater running full blast. Pelton laughed. “There is no daddy. Like I said, I'm much older than I sound.” “That's what they all say. And you look about sixteen.” “You won't believe me if I tell you how old.” Tom could hear that dark amusement in Pelton's voice again. “I'm twenty-three.” Tom knew he was lying. “Perfect. You look and sound younger.” “I think you like that,” Pelton teased. “You're naughty. Very naughty.” “I am. So very bad,” Tom agreed cheerfully as he stroked his cock. “I bet you're playing with yourself right now. I don't hear the truck running. That means you're in the bunk.” Pelton's voice went very silky. “And if I were in your bunk I'd have your cock in hand, so it's safe to assume you do, too.” “I do,” Tom admitted, getting a little firmer grip. “And I'm sitting here, just teasing mine,” Pelton offered. “Running one finger around the head. Catching the bit that leaks out.” He slurped the finger noisily and Tom gave a soft moan and breathed faster. Pelton giggled. “What would you do if I got a butt-plug and let you listen to that? Let it go squelch-squelch in and out of my ass?” Tom moaned again and worked his hand faster. “I'd be already gone. But the only thing I want in your ass is me.” “Awww, you're no fun. You don't want to make me sit on one that's way too big while I suck you, see how far down I can go?” Tom let go of his cock and tucked his hand under his head. He was going to come if Pelton didn't stop. “After I have you first, maybe.” “What if I want to have you? Prove I'm man enough to lick it and fuck it both.” “Oh, you can have it. I love a good fuck.” A Torquere Press Arcana - 8 .
Pelton sounded shy again, an odd thing on him. Tom liked it. He liked everything about Pelton. “I'm not sure if I’m good. It's been a long time.” “Long time for me taking it, too. But it's like riding a bike.” “Tom? How long has it been?” Pelton sounded concerned. “With a boy? Not sure. A little under a year, maybe?” “Oh, my. And here, I was expecting a story about how you picked up a pretty runaway at the last truck-stop, fed him dinner, fucked him silly and called him Pelton all evening.” “No, sweet. I'm waiting for you. I want you too much to waste it.” “Got a hot load, huh?” Pelton teased. “Hot for you, yeah. And I don't even know you yet. I'd be hotter still if I did.” Pelton's soft laugh only made him harder. He fought to keep his hand under the big head and not wrapped around the little one. “We'll see how hot soon enough. Going to burn my tongue with it?” Tom smiled. It sounded like Pelton was really into cocksucking. He loved a good blow-job. “Yeah, burn that wicked tongue of yours. Where'd you learn to use it like that?” “Boy scouts,” Pelton said, his voice all innocence. He promptly ruined it by laughing like a loon. Tom laughed, too. “Bad boy.” His hand escaped his control and wrapped around his cock again, doing the slow stroke that would keep him hard, but not bring him off too quickly. “I am,” Pelton confessed. “And you love it.” “I do. Want you so much.” He gave his cock a stroke before getting his hand back under his head. “We have got to get together. Any way you can spend a weekend in Effingham?” Pelton asked. “I'm working on some time off. Not guaranteeing I'll get it on a weekend, though.” “That's all right. I don't work.” “I'll call you as soon as I get word. They've been running me hard lately.” Pelton's smile carried over the line. “Ah, that way you have lots of money.” Tom knew he was teasing again. “You can take me out. Daddy.” He'd taken to tormenting Tom with that one since A Torquere Press Arcana - 9 .
the evening Tom had greeted him with a cheerful “Who's your daddy?” “Oh, yeah, I'll treat you to whatever you like.” “Including a nice deep fuck?” “Now that comes free.” “I'd do it even without an outing, you know. Because you have the best looking cock I've seen.” Tom groaned at this. Since he'd sent the pictures of his hard-on, Pelton never failed to mention how gorgeous it was. That always turned him on like a radio. “It's better in person. Fuck first, then outing.” He had his cock in hand again and wasn't sure when he'd laid hold. Pelton's voice was like a drug, making his head spin and his balls tight. “I can't wait. You still rubbing? Going to come for me, or after I leave?” “Almost there right now. Keep talking, pretty.” “Wish I was there to do the rubbing and to catch it when you did shoot.” Pelton made a soft slurp and Tom cried out, coming just from the thought of his spunk all over that pretty face and pouty mouth. Pelton purred. “Oh, yeah, bet you taste good. I love the taste. I'd lick you all clean.” Tom lay quietly and listed to Pelton's soft gasp. “I'd let you return the fa--favor--ah!” Tom moaned quietly, imagining what Pelton must look like coming. “Damn.” he breathed. There was silence on the line for a few moments. “Wow.” Pelton sounded far too perky. “I feel so much better.” “Yeah. You and me both.” Tom yawned, the day's work and evening's pleasures having exhausted him. “All right then. I'll talk to you tomorrow.” “Night, sweet.” Tom closed the phone, hanging up. He wanted to roll over and go straight to sleep. But he really needed to check in. He did the time conversion and figured Marybeth would still be awake. She sounded half-asleep herself when she picked up. “Hi, Tom.” “Hello, Sunshine.” He knew he sounded no better. “You driving safe, sweetie? Hope you're shut down as wiped out as you sound.” “Always. You know me. Just about ready to kip and thought I should call my girl.” A Torquere Press Arcana - 10 .