I had one of the more interesting showers I've taken recently at a truck stop
down in North Carolina. In the south, not all truck stops are the modern
establishments you see on major highways with names like Petro, Pilot, or 76, all
of which have private shower rooms for truck drivers. In rural areas and off of
non- interstate highways, the truck stops are often older buildings,
independently run, with the showers right off of the truckers' men's room. (Most
truck stops have separate rest rooms for professional drivers and "civilians," or
four-wheelers.)

I was running a load from New York down to Georgia, and had stopped to fuel my
rig at a small truck stop off the highway. It wasn't one of the major chains, but
it was listed in my directory as an authorized fueling location. I actually like
the smaller truck stops - they have a lot more character than the chains, even
though they're sometimes a pain in the ass. At the majors, you can fuel both
tanks in a tractor trailer at once, since the diesel pumps on both sides of the
tractor are tied into each other. At the smaller stops, you use only one pump,
which means filling one fuel tank, then stretching the diesel hose across the
back of your tractor and filling the other tank. It's a pain, but it also
provides more time to take in any interesting sights that may be wandering around
the truck stop.

One of the benefits to being a tractor-trailer driver is that when you purchase
50 or more gallons of diesel, you generally get a free shower out of the deal. As
long-haul truckers, we virtually live in our tractors, which often have fairly
large sleeper cabs. While a good-size sleeper, especially a "condo" tractor in
which you can stand up, can fit, say, two or three people comfortably, the one
thing they're missing is a shower. So the availability of showers at truck stops
is a big factor in deciding where to fuel, especially if a complimentary shower
is thrown in with a fill-up.

So, back to North Carolina. This particular truck stop had the usual features: a
24-hour restaurant (although it was so small that they didn't have the usual
buffet or salad bar), a trucker store, TV lounge for professional drivers, a
small trucker's motel within walking distance, and showers. But the showers
weren't in the usual private rooms with a toilet and sink; this one had three
shower stalls, side by side, each having a curtain, located in the truckers'
men's room. There were the other usual features of a men's room - two urinals,
three stalls, and three sinks, all well within view of the shower stalls. No
lockers, there was simply a row of hooks directly across from the shower stalls
where drivers who were showering could hang their clothes. There were double
doors leading to the room, which was behind the truckers' TV lounge at the rear
of the building, well away from the restaurant area.

I had been driving for most of the day, and arrived at the truck stop at about
midnight. After I fueled up, I found the parking lot fairly full but was lucky
enough to find a spot. I gathered a few fresh clothes and, taking my coupon for a
free shower, I went into the building and hit the shower room.

You probably noticed my user name - "The Naked Trucker." And I usually am. When
you're driving an 18-wheeler, you sit high enough off the ground that you can be
driving buck-ass naked without anyone being the wiser. Even most other truckers
won't notice it since, when tractor-trailers pass each other, the drivers are
usually looking straight ahead for the sake of safety. If you pass another driver
and he happens to look over for more than a fraction of a second, chances are
that he's interested in checking you out anyway, and even then he'll only catch a
glimpse of you. And when other drivers pass you, even if they are going slow, the
door of your cab usually hides the full view. Of course, there are times when you
and another driver will connect through eye contact that lasts a little longer
than usual, but what happens then is for another post.

Even though I usually drive naked, I obviously have to put on clothes when I get
out of the truck to fuel my rig or go into a truck stop. Generally, I slip on a
jock strap (usually an Ace, for those who are curious; sometimes a Bike) and a
pair of shorts or jeans. If I'm fueling the rig in warm weather, I won't bother
with a shirt - guys who are hip enough know that totally straight truckers are
generally overdressed with shit that looks like it came from a boondock general
store - otherwise, I'll just put on a T-shirt. When I went into the truck stop
that night, I was wearing my usual jock, jeans, a T-shirt, and a pair of unlaced
Reeboks that I keep in the rig for when I have to step outside on rough ground. I
didn't bother to put on socks, since I was about to throw everything else off and
hit the shower.

When I entered the trucker's men's room, the first two of the three showers were
occupied. I noticed that the curtain of the first shower was fully closed. There
was an opening of a couple of inches on one side of the second shower, but the
driver in there was standing to the side and I couldn't see him.

I needed a shave, so I got out my shaving kit, took off my T- shirt, and lathered
my face up. The room was fairly humid with the showers going, so while the
shaving cream was softening my face, I took off my Reeboks and jeans, then went
back to the mirror to shave wearing only my jock strap.

I was preoccupied with shaving, so I didn't look to the side for a few minutes.
After I toweled off my face, I turned around to put my razor and shave cream away
and hang my shaving kit back on a hook, and noticed that the curtain on the first
shower was now also open a couple of inches. Again, the driver in there was
standing behind the curtain, so I couldn't see him at that point.

I walked back to the hooks, stripped out of my jock and hung it up next to the
complimentary towel provided by the truck stop, then went into the third shower
stall and turned the water on. I have to admit that by that point, I was curious
as hell as to what the other two drivers were like. Hell, most truck drivers are
trolls, and I never quite understood the fascination that gay guys have for them.
I had learned, though, that a tractor- trailer is like a magnet - it doesn't
matter what the hell the driver looks like, he'll have no trouble finding action
if that's what he's looking for. I had also learned that there is a minority of
truckers who can be damn hot looking, and I was lucky enough to be in that
minority.

I unwrapped the bar of soap I had received with my towel and stepped under the
hot water. As I began to soap myself up, I heard what appeared to be one deep
breath in the shower stall next to mine. It may have been a breath, it may have
been a gasp; I wasn't quite sure. The one thing I knew is that it was the heavy
breathing sound that someone makes when they're stroking their meat. And I have
to admit, thinking that the driver in the next shower was beating off was a
fucking turn-on, and I quickly felt my own cock get rock hard.

And I have a confession to make - I took the soap into the shower, but I had left
my shampoo in my shaving kit, which was now hanging on a hook across from the
shower stalls. Hell, I didn't exactly forget it, I just knew that having to go
back for it would give me another chance to check out the drivers in the other
two showers.

So I decided to be ballsy and, with a raging hard-on, walked across the room to
get my shampoo. I knew that the drivers in the other showers would certainly be
able to check me out as I walked back into the third stall. Of course, I left my
own shower curtain open a couple of inches.

I got back under the water, lathered up my hair, then turned toward the water to
rinse the shampoo off. When I turned around, still sporting a hard-on, I found
the driver from the second shower, next to mine, standing outside the stall,
looking at me, and stroking his own hard cock.

So I did what any driver should do - I stepped out of the shower myself and gave
my fellow driver a hand. And he gave me one. After a few seconds, he began to
stroke his own meat as he bent over and took my cock in his mouth. It was clear
that this was a scene at which he had some experience.

After a few seconds more, the driver in the first shower stall walked out, also
stroking his rod, and joined us. Driver number two then had a field day going
between us.

It was one of those rare moments - three drivers, all hot and fairly well hung,
and not a troll among us. As the driver from the second shower was going down on
my other new-found buddy, I brushed my own cock against his ass and it was
obvious that he had some experience in that end as well. At that point, I walked
across the room and got a condom out of my shaving kit, put it on, and with the
help of a little Ivory soap we turned our middle friend into a sandwich, going at
him from both ends - driver number one filling his mouth amply, and me plugging
his butt.

The moment was rare for other reasons. We were gambling that no one would walk in
on us. It was a little past 1 A.M. by this time, and most of the other drivers at
the truck stop were asleep in their rigs. I had noticed that the truckers' TV
lounge was empty when I came in, and before I arrived in the shower room I had
been the only one fueling a rig. Still, we knew that someone could have walked in
on us at any moment. The other reason it was rare is that all three of us shot
our loads at once - driver number one into the mouth of driver number two, who
took my own load up his ass while he literally shot a wad that hit the wall.

As we separated, we all leaned back for a second and put our own spin on the
scene. "Wow!" "Unfuckingbelievable!" "Shit that was hot!" At that point, the
shower room was steamed up from more than the water, and as we headed back to our
respective shower stalls it took us a good few minutes to cool down.

All long-haul truckers have a special bond - the fact that we're professional
drivers who don't know where the wind will take us the next day is something that
only another trucker can understand. But that night in the shower room of a
boondock truck stop in North Carolina, the three of us had another special bond.

It would be easy to say that we simply walked away without another word, but the
moment was too exceptional. After we had dried off - in fact, after we had dried
each other off - and dressed, we headed out to the restaurant and had an early
breakfast, trading the type of road stories that you normally don't hear from
truckers who had just met each other on the road.

After we ate, we headed outside and, since I had the largest sleeper cab of our
trucks, we all retired for another opportunity to get to know each other. We'd
all be going in our separate directions a few hours later, but knew that we
weren't about to find another similar scene and that the special bond we had
established back in the shower would last.

And it has. I haven't seen those guys since, but despite the opportunities for
action on the road - and they are more numerous than you could imagine - the
memory of that one is going to stay with me for a long time. And, unlike most of
the stories you read on newsgroups, every detail of this one is true.