Onward, Hitcher (Part Three)

Stories and fantasies about gay encounters in rainwear
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cammacg
Posts: 145
Joined: August 31st, 2010, 6:31 pm

Onward, Hitcher (Part Three)

Post by cammacg »

Needless to say, we both slept well, her downstairs, and me in the attic. We woke at 05.00hrs. dressed, then I got the coffee brewing in the truck’s coffee machine. Before I got to help her once again, into her mackintosh. Being the consummate gentleman, I was at the bottom of the passenger side steps, waiting for her to step into my arms. The smell of her, and her mackintosh, was having a special effect on my manhood. But there was no time to play, so it was a visit to the toilet, then on with the job. With Pamela’s mackintosh, once more hanging from the top bunk, and cups of coffee in insulated cups, we left Watling Street at 05.30, I of course was driving. And Pamela went back to bed, to catch a bit more sleep.

The early start paid off, we were up and around Birmingham, and up in Stafford by 08,00 hrs. The wait to unload gave us the chance to visit the snack wagon, out on the industrial estate, for the obligatory bacon sandwich and a cup of tea. Pamela had managed to get more sleep on the run up, even managing to get dressed behind the cover of the lower bunk. She was once more presentable, and ready to face the day.

We were on our way by 09.30 hrs. The plan was to drive down to Avonmouth, there to rendezvous with a colleague coming up from Cornwall. He was bringing a fridge trailer up, loaded with hanging meat, bound for a meat processing plant, in a town called Nuth, in southern Holland, just a stone’s throw from Maestrich. Due for delivery the next morning. It was going to be a long night, on top of a long day. It was something I did quite regularly, but I didn’t think Pamela would want it. We had to talk. This meant asking a lot of personal questions. There was always the option of jumping off in Rochester, but she seemed determined to do the trip.

By midday we were in Avonmouth. We had lunch in the Avonmouth Truckstop, and even managed to grab a shower. It probably would be the last one for a couple of days, we had to make the most of it.

I was standing facing the bunks, digging clothing out of my suitcase. I was close to Pamela, and right next to her beautiful mackintosh. The smell of that garment was driving me wild, but I had to get my wash kit ready. Then I felt her hand on my crotch. Her fingers stroking my penis, through my jeans. She commanded me not to move. So, I stood quite still, enjoying every touch. My belt is a simple stud, and she very adroitly pulled the belt undone. My loosened pants slid down, and she eased my under shorts, down, so they joined my jeans, down around my knees. Her touch was electric. She reached by me, and gathered the folds of her mackintosh, then covering my cock and balls, in that delightful rubber lining. She lasted for a few minutes, then took my cock into her mouth. This left the folds of rubber, hanging loose. I gathered up those loose rubber folds, and buried my face, into them. The feel, and the aroma, and her administrations, very quickly had me on the verge of my climax. I told her I was coming, but she kept on going, making her tongue work its magic. I could not hold back any longer, and with my face wrapped in the rubber folds, I came. But still, she didn’t stop. She drained every drop out of me. My legs were shaking, in fact my whole body was shaking. It was beyond beautiful. It was way beyond belief. It was several minutes before I could regain my composure. All I could say was that we had better get going for a shower.

AS I was getting dressed, I reached and took a latex glove out of the pocket above the door, and slipped it into my pocket. I then died what was becoming the norm, I held her mackintosh, so she could slip into it easily. I grabbed my shoulder bag, and scooted round to the passenger door. I dropped my bag onto the top of the catwalk, behind the cab, so my arms would be free. She began to climb down. I let her come down three out of the five steps. Before she could come down any lower, I had my hands up underneath her skirt. I swiftly pulled down her suspender belt, then her panties. She was wearing silk underwear today, which I was very pleased about, as I didn’t want to damage any rubber wear. In a flash, I had taken hold of her cock. With my free hand, I took the rubber glove, out of my pocket, slipped it over her rampant member. I told her it was going to be a “savage wank”. As for me, I once again had my face buried in her polka dot, rubber covered, mackintoshed bottom. I didn’t know about her, but I was in mackintosh heaven. Within a couple of minutes, she was “shooting” into the glove. I could actually feel her trembling, the vibrations reaching me through her rubber covered behind, straight into my face.
I helped her to clean up, and adjust her dress, till she felt acceptable again. Then a kiss. Soft and tender, with our arms wrapped around each other, and both of our rubber mackintoshes. We strolled to the café building, again with our arms round each other. We dined and did ablutions, and even managed an hours nap afterwards.

My “changeover” arrived at around 16.00. It is a simple operation, requiring the swapping of trailers, and takes about ten minutes. Pamela stayed in the cab, as she had done when unloading in Stafford. In short time we were on the road again. This time heading East on the M4. Now we had to talk seriously about the next step.

I would need to run through the night. I had been booked onto the Channel Tunnel Train, from Folkestone. That would save some time, and, give me a chance to maybe snatch another nap, if I should need it. I needed to be in Nuth, as early as I could be. The “thing” about the meat plant in Nuth, is that they need to know what trucks are there for unloading. They take in beef from all over Europe, and it has to be taken in, in age of the beef, order. So, calf meat would go through first, then mature beef, the “blue”, older beef last. It saves the packing crew having to clean down the production line, between each type of meat. The beef in my trailer was always “Blue” beef, so I was always, or almost always, unloaded last. I didn’t mind at all, because I got to sleep, whilst waiting, When I arrived at the plant, I would park outside, and slip my international transport paperwork, (CMR’s), into a plastic bag, and wedge them into the door handle. One of the guys would come round and take all the paperwork, then arrange it, in offloading order, this usually happened about 06.00hrs, when I was asleep.


Then I could book off on the Tachograph, unload late in the morning, get the trailer washed out, then sort out a backload. Easy peasy for me, but we had a major problem. If Pamela didn’t want to go with me, then that would be her decision, and I would abide by it. But if she did want to go, then we would have to do something drastic about crossing international borders.

I was full of concern for her. Her feelings of trepidation, at being thrust into the limelight, and how she would cope, were paramount. But she actually broadened the playing field, when she asked how I felt about the situation. It was the time to be absolutely honest with each other. So, what did I feel?.

It was easy to take the time to check my mirrors, check the various gauges, as I marshalled my thoughts. I took several minutes to do so, feeling my face get redder, and I could feel her watching me. Then it was there.

I told her straight. It was the only way. To be brutally frank and honest. I looked at her, and that wasn’t easy, because there were tears in my eyes. But I had to tell her that she had given me more pleasure, in the few days we had been together, than I had ever known. If I searched all my life for a partner into rubber mackintoshes, I would still be searching. It may even have been that she wasn’t into the same kind of scene as I, and thus be incompatible. It could have been that she was a straight crossdresser, and that wouldn’t have worked, either. So, what was it that brought us together, that day, weeks ago, in a downpour.

So, I had to say that I was over the moon at having met her, and, had been able to share some precious time with her. We might not be able to meld our lives together, but I felt we could do something, now we had actually made it this far. I knew that she would have to make the mind boggling decisions, that would severely affect us both, whatever she decided.

I finished by telling her that I wanted her, whatever that meant.

Apart from the noise of the truck, there was a deafening silence. We continued along the motorway, Me trying to concentrate on my driving, and she, turning the problem over in her mind. I gave her all the time she needed. This decision could not be rushed. It was as big as being faced with the big red button, to start World War Three, shall I? Or shan’t I?

Though she hadn’t said anything decisive, we had chatted most of the way. It seemed no time at all, till we reached the M25, and a comfort stop at Clacket Lane. Then what had become the norm again. I was up, and out of my seat, and holding her mackintosh. Then, like the proverbial whippet with Arthritis, I was out of the cab and round at the passenger door. I just had to be there to help her down. Of course, my arms just had to encircle her waist, with a we kiss to get us going.

Whilst we were drinking coffee, she asked if I would mind dropping her off in Rochester, for half an hour. I had plenty of time, so it wasn’t going to be any hardship. But did it mean it was the end of the road? She wasn’t going to enlighten me, so I would have to wait and see. It might be easier for her to telephone me to give me the news, then I could do, what I do best, and slip away into the night, and get on with my job.

Away from Clacket Lane, on to the M26 then the M20, heading East towards the Channel Tunnel. Very soon we had reached the turning for Rochester, and her home. I parked once again in the supermarket car park. Once again, I helped her into her mackintosh, and once again, maybe for the last time, I helped her down from the cab. This time I wasn’t letting her go without a proper kiss. With my arms around her, I held her close and kissed her with all the passion I felt, as if it might be for the last time.

I sat in the cab, idly watching shoppers coming and going, till I could no longer stand it. I decided to walk round the truck to check that all was still well, and ready for the nights work. I keep a piece of square steel tubing, about twelve inches long, down behind the driver’s seat. I use it for clouting the tyres, to see if any were flat. It could also double as an assistant, to “repel boarders”, should the need arise.

The trailer was sealed, but only with a company seal, as opposed to a “customs seal”, so I wanted to check the load, to see if the hanging meat, was still hanging, and not down on the trailer floor. I cut the seal and opened the doors. Everything was as it should be, and the meat was loaded right to the doors, which gave me about twenty five tonnes of cargo, and because it was quite tightly packed, it wouldn’t sway too much on bends.

I was about to close the doors again, when I heard a voice say, “Are we ready then?” I turned to see a well dressed man, standing a couple of feet away. He held a holdall that I recognised, and he was wearing a stone coloured, cotton, rubber lined mackintosh.

My jaw must have dropped open, because he started smile. I recognised that smile, It was the smile I loved. I placed my piece of steel pipe on the back of the trailer, and held my arms open. He stepped right into my embrace. We kissed there and then, and fortunately we were not observed, not that I was bothered, but because of Pamela, living right there, I didn’t want to upset her.

I was almost in tears, but managed to say, “welcome back”. Gazing into his eyes, I said, “we certainly won’t have any problems at the tunnel now. Well done”. It was time to relock, and seal the trailer. We had a train to catch.

I didn’t touch as he was climbing into the cab. I thought better of it. Just in case any one did see us. But it wasn’t easy, because I wanted to desperately put my hands on him. As he settled himself in, I went across to the shop, and bought supplies of food. We would need to eat in the truck, on several occasions, on this trip, mainly because of the odd hours I would be working.

Back in the truck, and as I was securing the groceries, I was bending over to place stuff in the under bunk fridge, when I was overwhelmed, by a pair of hands holding volumes of stone coloured rubber. He wrapped my face in it, then we shared a kiss. I knew then, we were going to be alright. Whether it was going to be Danny in a stone coloured, rubber lined mackintosh, or Pamela in her blue, polka dot rubber lined mackintosh, didn’t make any difference at all, to me. `they were the same person. I had made love to them both, and they, to me. I think I was falling in love with the both of them. This wonderful person was whom I wanted to spend my time with. We had a train to catch.
rubnylon2
Posts: 81
Joined: May 26th, 2016, 6:57 pm
Location: Norwich
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Re: Onward, Hitcher (Part Three)

Post by rubnylon2 »

I loved it a great gentle loving tale. I hope they live happy ever after
Thanks
hotwilly
Posts: 2339
Joined: March 17th, 2011, 9:03 pm
Location: Scunthorpe

Re: Onward, Hitcher (Part Three)

Post by hotwilly »

Excellent, well written story.
Thank you.
HW
Broad minded enough to acknowledge we all enjoy different things:)
PVC Raincoat
Posts: 241
Joined: January 19th, 2010, 12:26 am
Location: Canada

Re: Onward, Hitcher (Part Three)

Post by PVC Raincoat »

Well it looks like her fabulous rubber lined coat is up for sale, check this out

https://www.ebay.com/itm/265552966638?h ... Sw9hxiDVNm

PS: great story, I bet Gary can relate to the drives and stops as he was a HGV driver before PUL.
KlepperGuy
Posts: 113
Joined: January 14th, 2017, 11:32 pm

Re: Onward, Hitcher (Part Three)

Post by KlepperGuy »

Lovely story and a great twist.
Nice reference to Mac Mac.......happy memories of my visits to the wonderful Brimley Mill.
Thanks
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