By Desert Pioneer
Thursday 9PM, driving north on SH-99 Jack is getting tired. Looking for something to occupy his mind on this crazy lonesome drive Jack fantasizes about maybe pulling into a rest stop. Not a too busy rest stop, a few cars and a few trucks, on a not so major highway. The trucks are silent and cool, like they are there for a while. The men’s room has a single bulb light over the door and no traffic in or out of the door. Stuff that a fantasy is made of.
Jack’s black roadster pulls into the middle of the stop with a full view of the men’s room door. He waits and thinks about what he might run into in the restroom. Cutting his thoughts against reality he considers that this is interior northern California; not a liberal in your face queer community, but likely full of red necks who are hot in fantasy but pretty dull, and sometimes dangerous, in reality.
“What a shitty fantasy” he thinks. It comes from his angle of keeping fantasy close to his reality which, in Jack’s mind, pulls it more toward possibility. Unfortunately, the reality that serves as his base, ain’t all that. He’s had a few encounters that introduced fetishes. Yet google “fetish” and get a list hundreds long. So that’s all Jack; on the low side of fetish experience and a big bucket list containing things (1) that he has done, (2) he has fantasized about, and (3) stuff that he hasn’t even thought of yet. Of course, the big one that all bottom’s have; being used by a man, a stranger, for his calling of that man, regardless of any service to the bottom. Fear of strangers stoked Jack from head to toe.
Zac crashed for the next few hours with good reason. After spending the night locked up in a set of transport shackles and then spending some time chained up to the basement post, he was beat. It was noon before he hit the shower and headed out to run a few errands for the day. It was a scorcher that afternoon so he opted for his cargo shorts, his favorite snug fitting navy Under Armour Just Saying sleeveless tank and his worn low Chucks. It was almost dinner before he got back and he noticed Nick and Daniel kicking around a soccer ball in the front yard, their shirtless physiques glistening with sweat in the late afternoon sun. Zac was pretty cut himself, but he admired Nick’s physique, the muscular trimmed hairy chest that looked bullet proof. With his two bags of new workout clothes in tow, he headed over to chat with the men and soon found himself engaged in the battle of the soccer ball.