I awoke the next morning to the sight of Roy's wadded up boxers lying on his empty bed and the sound of the shower already running. He had been naked in the room with me again and I had dozed through it. I was bitterly disappointed.
My mind filled with visions of the huge man's massive hands roaming the voluptuous contours of his kingly bulk. I dug a hand down into my briefs and fondled my morning erection as the scene played out in my mind.
The pipes clunked when he turned the shower off. I heard the curtain slide open and let my mind fill with the visuals inspired by the clearing of his throat and the deep grunts emanating from behind the closed door. A man so large in a room so small must surely have been struggling to get the postage stamp towels the place had on offer around to his hard to reach places.
The lavatory faucet ran for a bit. When it shut off there was the familiar squirt of a pressurized can. I knew he was shaving off the dense growth of his previous day's beard.
At that point, when I shaved at all, it was only because the few curls at the end of my chin and soft fuzz above my upper lip had become so unsightly as to look shamefully silly even to me. I wondered if I would ever have a need as demanding as his for a razor. The image of him with the lower half of his handsome, round face slathered in foamy white cream loomed large as I continued gently stroking my hard-on.
The water began to drain from the sink and the faucet briefly ran once again. He emerged from the bathroom already in a fresh change of underwear, his chest and belly hair still somewhat damp and matted to his powerful bulk in places.
"G'mornin"!"
"Morning," I croaked.
"How'd you sleep?"
"Like a rock...what time is it?"
"Nine-fifteen."
I watched him dress. He put on a pair of sheer black nylon socks that refused to stay up on his thick legs, then pulled on a pair of black casual slacks and belted them to his perfect belly. Next he slung on a beige short sleeve shirt that magnificently showcased the rippling of his brutish forearms when he buttoned it up, only to the second button from the top as had become his custom.
Coarse silvery strands of chest hair peeked out, barely brushing his manly jowls as they glistened in the morning light. He left his shirttail out. I had never seen 'casual' look so sexy. He sat on the foot of his bed and slipped on a well-worn pair of Hush Puppy loafers, then rose to his feet and took what I thought was a rather long look at me.
"I'll go pay the room charge while you clean up."
He grabbed his wallet and quickly counted the cash in it, then snatched up the key and left. I bolted from the bed, grabbed my other change of clothes and then dashed to the bathroom to relieve the stiff condition of my cock.
I furiously fisted what stood at attention from my loins at the memory of his intact cock popping out of his fly. The way it had flopped over on his lap, as if to get a look at me, replayed in my mind over and over. Within seconds I exploded in an intense and noisy orgasm.
My arousal over the rare beast of a man temporarily sated, I gathered my wits and did as he'd told me. When I emerged from the bathroom he was seated at the little table by the window. I was glad I had dressed since the curtain was thrown wide open while he studied a map.
"Lookin' sharp, sport!"
"Thanks...you too," I said as I sat on the foot of my bed to put on my shoes.
When I was done we stood at the same time.
"Hungry?" he asked.
"As a bear!"
I tried my best to imitate his sepulchral bass in mimicking his words from Friday night.
Roy's handsome belly shook with laughter and he seemed genuinely flattered by my attention to detail in imitating him. We grabbed our bags, left the room and pitched them into the back of his truck.
He pulled up in front of the office and tossed me the room key.
"Mind turning that in for us?"
"Be right back."
When I returned he drove us to Gold Star for breakfast, as I expected.
Probably due to the generosity of his tip, our same waitress from the previous two visits quickly laid claim to our table. He ordered the same breakfast as before. I thought better of it and went for one that, though large by my standards, was decidedly less bountiful than his.
"You're a fast learner, honey," she said with a wink and a smile.
We chowed down and were soon back on the road in search of I81.
The interstate highway system was still a relatively new thing back then and I was struck by how almost unused the pavement looked. Roy liked how much time they saved and how much easier they were for the carnival's caravan to navigate between stops, but spoke longingly of the old scenic routes he had to travel when he first led them.
"We're not in any big hurry. Mind if I show you how beautiful this country of ours really is?"
"I'd like that."
I was grateful for any opportunity to stretch out my time in such close quarters with him.
It was a time before interstate exits had been standardized by the nearest mile marker. At exit 1C in Virginia we got off and found a roadside picnic spot where he could map out the route.
"Haven't done this in a few years so I need to freshen up my memory."
My eyes were glued to the rippling of his massive forearms as he flattened the map to the table and traced the sausage-like index finger of his right hand over the cumbersome page. I watched in silence until he folded it back up.
