When John reluctantly agrees to meet his ex-boyfriend at a truck stop, he very quickly realizes that he does not fit in with this crowd, in his designer clothes and with his Mercedes convertible parked outside. As he waits for his ex to show, John watches the truckers come and go, and he thinks about his one lingering fantasy. More than once, John has passed an eighteen wheeler on the interstate and wondered what it would be like to be inside the cab of a big rig. When it appears that John’s ex has failed to show, he wonders if he should dare try and live out his fantasy of being with one of those men who seem to be the kings of the highways.
John checked his watch for the umpteenth time. What the hell could be keeping Gary? He knew how much John hated places like this, not that he had been in all that many. “Not your kind of place, is it?” a voice from behind John asked. It was a deep voice, a very manly voice, and more than a little sexy. John turned to find himself staring right into a mass of black curly chest hair. The guy was huge. He was bigger than an NFL linebacker. The man’s biceps alone had to be the size of John’s head. Sure, John had always been into big guys, big hairy guys, it almost could be considered a fetish of his, but this man was built like a mountain.
They talked for a while, and the man told John that his name was Rex and as it turned out, he was indeed a trucker. He was passing through the city and through the state, for that matter, on his way to deliver some type of packaged goods. John really wasn’t paying that much attention to what the man was talking about. All John cared to find out about the man was what size package he was packing, and he didn’t mean the cargo in his truck. John wanted to know about the cargo stuffed into the man’s jeans.