He picked up a six pack of beer from a table and passed one to me. As we both pulled on the tabs he looked at me and said, "Do you trust me?" I though... at first I had misheard him and looked quizzically at him. He repeated what he had said and I thought for a moment before replying that I did. And in fact I did trust him. In spite of him calling me a faggot, I think I sensed that this guy had planned this meeting because he fancied me. Certainly I fancied him - manual labour had given him a. "Well? Get in."I did exactly that and after a few minutes of silence while driving downthe street, he turned into a side street and to the back delivery areawhere no one can be seen from the street. My heart was aflutter and mymind was racing to keep up.The next thing I heard from him was, "Can you give me hand withdirections. I think I'm a little lost." He peered at his crotch the rightinto my eyes then moved his seat back to give me the proper room to dowhat he, I think he wanted.It isn't. More

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