This is a print version of story Ted by mjkuhl from


When the phone rang, I checked the caller ID as usual. I didn't recognize the name or the number. I almost let it ring. On a whim, I answered, "Hello!"

The response was, "it's me. I caught a ride with an over the road driver who let me use his phone. I'll be in town by ten. You may have to pick me up. I'll let you know."

It took a minute or two to figure it out. It was Ted. I hadn't seen or heard from him since he left for Marine training more than 3 years ago. Ted was one of my favorites. He was an athlete a football, basketball, and even baseball star. He loved to wrestle for fun. But best of all, he was one of the hairiest 18 year olds that it had ever been my pleasure to work on.

The first time he showed up at my door, he had no idea what he was in for. He had a proud strut, a gleam in his eyes, and a smile that melted frozen female hearts. He had taken the virginity of at least 12 girls and probably easily that many guys.

I went to the store room and pulled out some pictures. He had had a mop of dark hair, always scraggly, sideburns, and normally a heavy five o'clock shadow. His eyebrows grew together into one beautiful monobrow. There was a patch of much lighter hair on the left side of his head. It would have been comical on anyone but this muscle bound stud. Strapped to the table and milked liked a bull for semen, taking three Bic pens in his urethra, foreskin sewn shut, balls swollen to 4 times their normal size with saline, and that beautiful ass red as a beet from being whipped. The harder the punishment, the bigger his cock would grow.

I wondered what Ted would be like now. Two consecutive tours in Iraq--a duty he had volunteered for. I had heard that he had done intelligence work. I'd have bet my bottom dollar that he would have been in the front lines. Oh well, I'd find out later that night.

It was hard by the time the phone rang again. This time, I answered right away. It was that same strange number. Ted said, "The roads are getting bad. Can you make it to the truckstop just off the bypass. It is only two miles from you as I recall. We'll be there in ten minutes. If you can get to us, I'll drive us back."

As I said, "Sure," I wondered how bad it would be. I started the car inside the warm garage. When I put the door up, I was greeted by huge snowflakes and wind. "Great," I flusterd. It took more than 15 minutes to go the two miles. When I reached the Plaza, Ted was standing under the overhead. He ran to the car and said, "Hey, he can't drive any more tonight. Can he come with us?"

"He?" I mouthed.

"Yeah, the driver, he's been good to me. He can get underway in the morning after the storm lets up." Then that smile.

"I guess it will be all right. It might be a problem though." I could see the anticipatory bulge in Ted's pants.

"Great," Ted nearly roared. "He's parked over there, the white Peterbilt" When we pulled up close, Ted jumped out and ran to the truck. He grabbed his bag, and slowly a man came out of the cab. Leaving the truck running, he locked the cab and they both came to the car. I had moved to the passenger seat so that Ted could drive. The storm was worse. The wind was beginning to drift the snow. As we drove, Ted made small talk. I hadn't had a good look at the truck driver. I learned that his name was Steve.

When we pulled into the garage, the snow was already a problem in the driveway. Ted laughed and said it could wait until morning. As the door went down, we excited the car. Ted had a bag; Steve had none. We went into the warm kitchen. I had baked an apple pie earlier in the evening and the scent filled the room.

Now, I got a good look at Steve. As he took off his too light coat, I could see that he was well put together. His hair was a sandy blonde. His shoulders like Ted's. He shook my hand firmly thanking me for the roof for the night. Steve was a hunk. I wondered what Ted had in mind.

To be continued

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