Two Cocks for Christmas
By Randall Rumper

The Pickup

‘Twas predawn hours three days prior to Christmas as Kris wheeled his rig into the travel plaza on I-10 at exit 1 to top off his rig with fuel before crossing into California. Kris always tried to take advantage of lower diesel prices before entering California. Once he navigated the Interstate exit Kris pulled up positioning his truck at the island to top off the tanks. He inserted his credit card, lifted the lever on the pump and began filling the first tank. With fuel pouring into the tank he looked around. A couple of weary wretched looking waifs sitting on the curb in front of the travel plaza convenience store caught his attention. For some reason Kris’s manhood stirred, tingling with desire inside his Levis as he studied the delectable yet dejected looking lads. He wondered if the boys might be looking for a ride.

Normally, Kris didn’t offer rides to strangers, but these two lads looked so very innocent yet bummed out. Besides, it was the season of giving. As the truck driver gazed at the boys something about the younger much cuter appearing youth had sparked a sexual curiosity within as Kris stood filling the tanks. The fuel nozzle inserted into the filler tube was somewhat of a metaphor for anal penetration. So, as he stood filling the tank with diesel he wiggled the nozzle pushing it deeper into the tank as if he was spewing a load of spooge deep inside. He couldn’t help thinking about filling the boy’s ass with his stiffening hose. Once Kris finished topping off his tanks he pulled away from the fuel island, parking his rig on the periphery to allow others access to refuel. After parking his rig and walking his dog, Kris dashed over to the convenience store to refill his thermos with fresh coffee to knock the chill of the morning off.

As Kris walked briskly towards the brightly lit convenience store his thoughts were still occupied by the pair of good-looking lads he’d seen earlier sitting on the curb. He hoped they were still there and possibly in need of a ride. The faded bulge outline of his semi-hard cock pressing against the denim fabric was clearly visible through his Levis. Kris’s cock had a mind of its own and seemed to spring to life the moment he caught sight of good-looking young men. Of course, Kris, not married, and having a fondness for younger men began contemplating sexual fantasizes about the two. The magic of his mind raced with lustful thoughts of a sexual tryst between him and the two boys if they needed a ride.

Kris walked past the two boys as he entered the store. Neither boy looked up at him, but both appeared miserably disheartened. The two hadn’t moved. They were still sitting in the same place on the concrete curb, backpacks in front of their feet, resting their bowed heads on crossed arms supported by their knees. When Kris exited the store with a full thermos of freshly brewed coffee he also had in his hand a sack of enticingly fresh smelling doughnuts. He asked the two forlorn looking ragamuffins, “So, what’s up with you two?”

“My fuckin Bronco blew up a few miles back on west bound I-10,” the owner said not looking at Chet but pointing to the late 1980s model blue Bronco with expensive looking wheels on the back of a tilt bed tow truck