Truck Kun Gif Novels & Stories

"We were very nice to the fancy truck." Ridge pulls me closer to his side and I wrap an arm around his back to maintain my balance. "Babe, he drives a Dodge. Mine's better." "The little bulls in each headlight were cute." Ridge throws his head back and laughs, but Riley's eyebrows narrow. "They're rams and the truck is a beast. The word cute should never describe something with such rugged manliness." "Manly cute?" From his groan my updated answer doesn't make Riley feel any better.

The truck comes to a quiet stop at the front of the pack’s elementary school. Kieran kills the engine and steps out, slamming the door shut and stretching his shoulders after the drive. He looks up at the glaring sun in the sky and tsks at the scorching heat. He goes to the back of the truck, where there are boxes of school supplies—everything the pups need for their daily activities. If it weren’t so boring, Kieran would have missed his school days. He reaches out to grab a box when his eyes catch something in the open yard.

I shout, curving to gaze at his tanned highlights with a joking look. "Gracious... truly?" Felix asks absentmindedly, "Probably been a quite huge vehicle." He lifts his shirt, taking a gander at the injuries and nearly recuperated scabs following along his body. I can't resist the urge to see again how characterized his muscles, with a six-pack that seems as though it has a place on a jock. "It was a truck." "That seems OK. No big surprise the breath was taken out of me. On the off chance that it was an ordinary vehicle then I could not have possibly passed out like a dolt."

"Do not be alarmed; I wear glasses not because I'm farsighted or nearsighted." Adrenaline coursed through his veins as the cars kicked up dust and rocked as he sped along the narrow dirt road. The roar of the engines and the screeching of the tires filled the air. They were in the lead until they heard a wolf cry, at which point Griffin quickly came up, his glossy black fur cutting through the wind. "Kurt! Stop!" Keira seized her safety harness. "We might have to take a detour." Kurt turned the wheel and steered the vehicle into a remote road.

Stories that froze my pulse before they made me laugh. Truckers are soft souls. I don’t care what the murder shows say. They keep pictures of their wives and kids taped to the dash, hanging from the rearview. Pretty women and grinning kids forever smiling back at them in sun-bleached colors. We’ve never once caught a ride with a trucker who didn’t share his food, offer a blanket or a jacket. Make a point of switching to a different radio station if we asked, roll the windows up or down as we wanted.