This handsome young mans nervousness only seemed to increase more noticeably while we drove down that darkened four lane road with my hand still resting on his basket. I would glance over periodically and smile at his agitation that was so apparent even in the soft blue light from the dashboard. His face was flushing scarlet with even a nice touch or two from a bit of perspiration around his forehead. He said nothing about my hand resting down there on him even though I could obviously feel his very strong erection. Instead he continued to talk about football non-stop now! Never mind, the public rest stop was not too far down the road from here and the gruff and burly long distance truck drivers who were like to be already parked there for the night could be counted upon to not give a care about a dad sitting on a family picnic table and spanking his boys bare bottom. Spanking is not uncommon here and long distance drivers are known for running a rather tight ship in their own homes! Heck, one of them might just wander over and offer to give me a hand with this young man so nervously sitting beside me in the front seat of my car.
For sure, this particular young man needed to know who he was now responsible to a dad. There is no better way to make this clear and to enforce a young mans status than to have him bare his buns right about now. I continued driving toward that destination and, as for the young man sitting right beside me, well, he continued talking nervously unaware of what was up ahead.
Twenty minutes or so later I edged the speeding car back into the slow lane when the sign posts read "Rest Stop 1 mile Limited Facilities." There was only one "facility" I needed and that was a picnic table for the boy.
That boy, however, did not seem to notice I was suddenly in the slow lane. He was talking too much still. He did notice, however, as soon as I pulled the car into the "Rest Stop" access road.
"Ah, Rest Stop?" he muttered, "like a WC or something?"
"Yep, that plus something."
He looked over at me curiously. I lifted my hand from his full basket, something I hated doing. It had, after all, remained stiff and active ever since my hand had first rested itself on in. This boy was definitely ready.
I pulled ahead the few parked big rigs that were already there for the night and noticed a couple of the drivers sitting at a picnic table and enjoying packed sandwiches from that last Truck Stop about 40 miles north up the road. At the back and end of the area under the slight cover of darkness sat a slightly more secluded picnic table with a few strategically growing and still green bushes.
"You passed the WC," he mentioned with some urgency. He even sounded like a teenage boy.
"Not a problem. Youve got two good feet to walk back on if you need to use it." Actually it was no more than a quarter of a block from where I pulled the car into the spot beside the chosen picnic table just far enough from the drivers and their rigs in case the boy needed a good, long spanking. The boy, however, seemed to have no idea why I had pulled up to a picnic table at about 9:30 at night and in the semi-dark as well. He did not need to know but he did seem relieved my hand was no longer on his endowment!
Stopping the car, we both got out and stretched. He walked back to the facilities while I stretched a bit more in the fresh night air and then I sat down on the top of the picnic table to wait. I would have a good look at him when he got back. He, in turn, would quickly realize a real dad is far different from a cyber fantasy! That is a lesson I was sure he would pick up on immediately.
He did wander back about five or so minutes later. I saw him in a distance walking toward me as I sat on top of that table. We were at the far table but well within three other tables seeing and hearing distance should I begin his first lesson. He passed one of those tables and looked over at the truck driver and his younger mate having a beer there. They nodded and smiled, my boy did the same ax he continued walking toward me.
Then his eyes exploded wide open and real concern showed on his face that flushed completely red all of a sudden. He was now close enough to notice I was sitting on that table top beside the car and in my hand was an old fashioned wooden and thick school mars ruled. It had cracked more than a few school boys' hands long ago when rulers were part of every old maid teachers arsenal. More importantly, that old, used ruler was quite thick enough and sturdy enough that it could certainly land a stinging impression on my young mans buns, especially when they were bared!
He seemed to start walking more slowly toward me now.
"Come here, son," I spoke calmly but in a tone that spoke I expected his obedience.
Looking actually scared and nervous all over again, this young man approached me with obvious trepidation until he was standing right in front of me and between my knees. I extended my hand and patted the left side of his face tenderly. His eyes kept darting back toward the other tables where a few still sat out however.
All of a sudden he blurted out, "Dad, youre not going to . . ." but I cut him off by putting my hand on his lips and silencing him. His eyes darted out in real concern now.
"I dont want to hear a single word out of you, son," I continued speaking softly. My notion on this one was going to be difficult for him, I knew; but I could certainly make it even more difficult if he failed to obey. When I removed my hand from his lips, he looked very concerned, but he uttered no sounds at all. I felt his basket again. His _c_o_c_k_ felt hard as a rock and straining for release. He showed real concern when I pulled him in toward me and hugged him in my arms. However, he then showed even more concern when I patted the seat of his pants and kept my hand there. Still it was not until my fingers began fiddling with his belt buckle and ultimately inched his zipper down that he looked so uptight that I began to feel some concern at his possibly fainting!
Just a boy and his dad at a rest stop. Nothing more, nothing less.
Under the cover of a fair amount of darkness, I let his pants fall to a clump on the gray concrete table slab under us. His belt clinked on it when it fell to the ground. It almost sounded like a bell. His face was red as he publicly stood in just his boxers in front of me while I continued to sit on the table. My hands reached around to get a good feel of the seat of his boxers. The kid really did feel like he had a good tight set of buns as he had always said he had. What was more surprising was the extended tent effect as his young _c_o_c_k_ strained to get out of his boxers! His face reeked embarrassment, but he knew better than to say anything, nor to move.
Again, it was just a boy and his dad at a rest stop. This boy would soon be ready. My fingers moved to the elastic along the top of his cotton blue and white briefs. His eyes, however, now seemed fixated on darting back and force between my face and that old ruler now resting on the table beside me. He was obedient and had not moved a single muscle as he stood there in front of me with his pants crumbled and bunched over his shoes and his bare bottom protected from sight only by a thin fabric of cotton. This young man was indeed going to become an obedient and good soon, it was obvious and clear to me right at that moment. I pulled him closer against me and offered him some comfort. Forgetting the world behind him, he responded too! Good boy, for sure.
And in the soft moonlight, those buns of his felt very good too. And, at the same time, only a short distance away, it almost seemed like one very larger than life truck driver was smiling. For sure he had noticed! He was definitely looking!
To be continued . . . soon.