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Truck Stop

By: Manda&Kayti



I lay in bed, alone, as usual. It was only ten p.m. on a Friday night, and I really wasn't that tired. I wasn't quite up to getting all dressed up and going out, so I threw on a pair of jeans, an old shirt and my sneakers, hopped in the car and headed for the truck stop for some coffee.

As I walked in, I noticed a sexy guy sitting alone at the counter. He was wearing a pair of blue jeans that hugged a perfect tight ass and a snug white t-shirt. I walked past him, and, getting a whiff of cologne I sat down in a booth near him. Lighting a cigarette, I tried to concentrate on the menu while stealing longing gazes at his back, and wishing I had thought to wear something a bit sexier than a flannel. The waitress came, I ordered coffee and some eggs and thought about moving to the counter to sit by him. Just as I was about to get up, he turned around and asked if he could join me.

"Please do" I answered nervously, gesturing to the seat across from me. His face was sexily scruffy, his eyes a warm brown that were making me wet already, and a mouth I could almost imagine kissing my nipples. 

"Hi, I'm Kris. You from around here?" he asked, looking me with those beautiful eyes and a seductive smile.

"Yeah I live a few miles away. By the way I'm Amanda."

"Pleased to meet you Amanda. I'm trying to find a place to stay tonight, the heater went out on my truck and I'm not looking forward to sleeping in this cold weather of yours by myself! I don't suppose you could direct me to a cheap hotel or something?" Kris explained. 

I wanted to say you can stay at my place AND you won't have to sleep alone! The tight shirt outlined his hard chest and muscle-rippled stomach, and my mouth watered at the thought of running my hands across it. Instead I answered "Yeah, there's a decent place down the road a few blocks that's pretty reasonable,"

"Great, now if I could only take care of the sleeping alone part..." he whispered in a low voice.

I blushed and was about to reply when the waitress came with our food. Instead I smiled and started putting sugar in my coffee. Damn it I should have said something! 

He and I chatted about boring stuff like the weather and where he was going while we ate, and the next thing I knew he put his feet up on my seat, and one right between my legs. The instant warm tingle down below gave me the courage to suggest he could stay at my place for free. The waitress raised an eyebrow at me as she gave us our checks. Rubbing his foot against my already drenched pussy through my jeans, he grabbed my check before I could respond.

With a mischievous grin, he winked and said "It's the least I can do for you, and if this isn't enough I'll cook you breakfast in the morning. Shall we?" 

I practically ran to my car and unlocked the door for him. Once on the road, my favorite song came on the radio. Without thinking, I started swaying and singing the words. I noticed that he was watching me closely and smiling. Feeling self conscious, I stopped singing and reddened in embarrassment.

"Don't stop, you have a beautiful voice," 

"Thanks, but I should concentrate on driving," I giggled, "I've got a lot on my mind as it is!"

"A lot on your mind? You mean stuff like this?" he asked and reached over and slid his hand down the front of my pants.

"Oh god yes" I sighed, trying to keep my car on the road as he lightly fingered my slit. I knew I couldn't make it all the way home without ending up in a ditch, so I pulled into the next driveway.

"This must have been what was on your mind. God you're so wet, I want to taste you all over. Is this your place already?"

"No, but it will do for now!" 

I threw the car in park then leaned over to kiss him, one hand on his neck pulling him closer and the other frantically unbuttoning his jeans, feeling his hard cock straining against them. We kissed hard and passionately, our tongues entwined, exploring every inch of each other's mouth. He pulled his hand free of my pants and quickly took of my shirt, then deftly unsnapped my bra, freeing my breasts.

He eagerly pulled me close and started to caress them, brushing his hands over my hard nipples before rubbing them between is fingers. Moaning loudly, I arched my back in pleasure, and finally freed his cock from his pants. It leapt from its prison, and I longed to have all 7 inches in my mouth.

I reached down and began stroking his erection, enjoying his moan of pleasure. Our breathing was fast and raspy, and he bent his head began kissing my breast.

"Stroke me harder," he ordered, and as I complied he sighed "You have got the most beautiful tits I've ever seen" then started sucking and nibbling on my nipple while undoing my pants.

His cock seemed to get thicker with every stroke; I couldn't resist any longer. I wiggled out of my pants and pulled off my panties, and pulled down his pants enough to give me working room.

He immediately pulled his seat back, and I took one of his balls and sucked it into my mouth, twirling my tongue and savoring the slightly salty flavor. He ran his hands through my hair, and I began to lick his shaft, just the very tip of my tongue dancing in little circles on my way up. Kissing the head of his cock, I opened my mouth, tightly sealed it around it and sucked gently, sliding just the head in my mouth at first, then slowly inching my way down till I had all of him in my mouth and throat.

My tongue swirled and flicked his cock as I slid him in and out of my warm wet mouth, his hands gripped my hair, pulling it and bringing an involuntary moan from me. The scent and taste of him was driving me insane, I sucked him greedily while massaging his balls with one hand. I was so wet with desire I could smell my pussy. He freed his hands from my hair and pulled me over to his side of the car.

"Oh Amanda, I can't wait to taste you any longer. You're driving me insane..." I placed my hands on the floor of the car and continued sucking him off. He delicately licked my slit, I could feel his warm breath on my snatch, his whiskers tickling my skin, and I moaned. He felt the vibration from my sighs and groaned; and raised his hips, shoving his thick cock in my mouth all the way to the balls. Driven crazy by lust, I sucked him in and out of my mouth at a frenzied pace, and when he suddenly closed his mouth over my clit I could feel my climax building instantly. Flicking his strong, wet tongue over and around my clit, sucking it gently into his mouth, my body began to tingle, and I ground my pussy into his face wildly, his thrusting becoming more fevered. We were both about to come, and the anticipation of tasting his sweet come drove me over the edge, screaming with his cock still in my mouth, my body quivering uncontrollably and spurting hot sweet come juice all over his face and chin.

He managed to gasp "Fuck you taste so good. Don't stop. Your hot little mouth feels so good around my cock" and reached down and grabbed my hair again and forced me to suck him even faster and deeper than before. His breathing was harsh and fast, his hips thrusting up to meet every down stroke of my hungry mouth. With a loud groan, I felt his hot come shoot down my throat. I slurped his cock and swallowed every last drop, savoring the taste of his sweet jism, not slowing down until I felt the last of his sperm land on my tongue. Slowly swirling my tongue around him on last time to make sure I didn't miss any of his tasty juice, I let him out of my mouth. 

Climbing back into the driver's side, I leaned over and softly kissed him on the lips. I quickly got most of my clothes back on, and just as I backed out of the driveway, a squad car pulled behind us with his blinker on, and turned into the drive we had just took our pleasure in.

With a grin, I said "Perfect timing", and drove on to my house as he laughed and wiggled into his clothes. Watching him out of the corner of my eyes, I admired his rock hard chest and tight stomach, muscled legs and firm ass. Looking at him get dressed, I got turned on again and couldn't wait to see if I could talk him out of his clothes again and keep me company in bed.

As we pulled into my driveway a few minutes later and got of the car we both stretched and looked at each other and grinned. I could see my desire reflected in his eyes as well. We walked into my house, and carelessly threw our shoes in a corner. 

"Do you want the whole tour or are you too tired?" I asked teasingly.

"I think for now I just need to find the bedroom...although I doubt either of us will be finding sleep anytime soon," he said, his eyes raking over my body, and reaching over he grabbed my ass and pulled me close, kissing me deeply. I could still taste my sweet juice on his lips, and still locked in his embrace we stumbled into my room. He picked me up, and set me gently on the bed.

"I want to take my time now, enjoy every inch of you"

"Mmmm sounds great"

I took off my shirt and slid out of my pants, and since my bra and panties got lost in my car I laid out on the bed naked. He smiled appreciatively, and told me to roll over.

Obeying, I rolled on my stomach and felt cold oil being poured on my back. I had left my massage oil out on my dresser, and I could see he was planning on making good use of it. The goose bumps that had popped up from the cold massage oil quickly disappeared as his warm hands ran up and down my back, kneading my sore spots and causing a wave of relaxation to spread over me. Next he massaged my feet, my calves and thighs. Kissing me behind my knees, I sighed and shivered, feeling his warm hands lightly brush my inner thighs. 

Spreading my legs wider for easier access, he inched his fingers up, barely brushing my trimmed muff. He grabbed the oil again, and I felt cool oil trickle down my ass. Making sure his finger was well lubed; he slowly slid his finger into my ass, eliciting a loud moan of pleasure. I had never experienced anything anal, and the instant surge of wetness proved to me I would love it. Teasingly sliding his finger in and out, his free hand reached down and traced lazy circles over my already swollen clit with his thumb, and with two other fingers he penetrated my silky wet hole. 

All this stimulation was too much for me, without warning I felt my pussy start to tingle and quiver. I screamed and my vagina clenched his fingers tightly and an orgasm hit me like an ocean wave, pouring all over my body, making my muscles spasm in pleasure.

"Kris... God.... That felt incredible" I gasped. He rolled me over and kissed me once on the lips, then delicately licked my ear, nibbling gently on my earlobe. Working his way down my neck, sucking and kissing me softly, he took a breast in his hand and massaged it while he suckled on my nipple. Moaning, I ran my hands through his soft dark hair. 

"I never said I was finished Amanda,"

In one swift motion he plunged his rock hard cock into me, the thickness of it totally filling me up and stretching my pussy as far as it could go. 

"Oh god you are so tight" he groaned and slowly slid in and out of my slick snatch, each thrust going deep and making me moan. We locked lips, panting and moaning together. Soon his kisses grew harder and more impassioned, I responded by raising my hips to meet his thrusts, our pace becoming faster.

"Fuck me harder Kris!" I screamed, raking my fingers across his back, my nails digging in deep. He thrust his hips wildly, driving his cock hard and deep, his balls slapping against me, and the sensation of an orgasm spread over my body yet again.

"Oh shit I'm coming!" he yelled, as I screamed the same.

My pussy clenched his throbbing cock and my juice poured all over him, and a second later he screamed my name and I felt his come shoot deep inside me. 

He withdrew his cock from my still quivering cunt. Panting he collapsed on top of me, then rolled to my side.

"Amanda, you are so amazing..." he sighed, then threw his arm around me and snuggled against me. 

I can't remember saying anything, next thing I knew it was morning and he was still in bed with me, looking at me tenderly and caressing my hair. 

"Last night was wonderful" he said with that sexy smile of his. "Want to go again?"

Truck Stop



I woke up in the passenger's seat barely unsure of what state we were in now. "Hey you." Phil said cheerily. 

"Where are we now?" I said as I stretched out as far as humanly possible in a Toyota Corrolla.

"Ohio, just past Toledo. Feeling refreshed, Tif?" Phil looked over at my body as most of my outstretched abdomen peeked out of my jeans and my tits heaved as I let out heavy yawns. I felt a little bad for Phil, traveling cross country with a guy I knew full well had been crushing on me for about a half his life. We grew up in the same small town in Iowa together and were even good friends in college. A good friend of ours was getting married, but not a good enough friend for us to fork out $800 each for plane tickets. So, Phil offered to pick me up in Pittsburgh and drive halfway across the country instead of accumulate the frequent flyer miles. I should have known that this trip was Phil's way of a making a Hail Mary pass at taking our relationship to the next level. I mean, he was willing to drive up from North Carolina to pick me up for the trip.

"You want me to take over for awhile?" I said as I yawned.

"You keep stretching like that and I'll be happy to drive the rest of the way." Phil looked away sheepishly.

"You perv." I joked.

"Only for you, Tif." Phil said sweetly.

"Phil." I said to get his attention as I leaned over. "It's not going to happen."

"I know." He responded.

"It's not that I have any problem fucking you." His head snapped in my direction. "But, it wouldn't just be fucking -- we know each other too well. We'd screw up a great friendship." I explained to him as he looked down my sweatshirt like he was in the desert and my cleavage was an oasis.

"Tif, if I've told you once I've told you a thousand times. I'm a dude, dudes can have sex without feeling anything at all." His puppy dog eyes didn't even believe what he was saying.

"That's only for girls you don't give a shit about -- we have history, Phil."

"Whatever, Tif. I just thought it would be fun if we pulled into a motel and banged each other's brains out - One night only. And then you went back to Pittsburgh and I went to Raleigh and we forgot all about it. It's not like you haven't done that before."

"See? That's what I mean by "history." A one night stand wouldn't know that. I'm just worried that I'd hurt you Phil. Maybe even me."

"You worry too much."

"Tell you what, how 'bout I give you a nice mental image to toss out in the shower later?" I smiled a devilish smile at him.

"I'm listening", he answered.

"This is a one time only event, okay?" I looked at him as he nodded in anticipation. I took a deep breath and pulled my sweatshirt over my head - exposing jsut my bra. I could tell by the way he was looking at me that there would be no way we could ever sleep together without him falling madly in love with me. 

"Jesus, Tif. I knew you had big tits -- but wow, girl!" 

I have a set of fabulous 36 C+'s. I'm very proud of them and more than happy to show them off. I hadn't done this in public since college -- but we were on a road trip. I bent my arms back and unclasped the strap and waited a second as Phil almost ran us off the road. "Hey, can you drive, Phil?"

"I just don't want to miss this. I've been jacking off to this since I was thirteen. Want to see if I got the image right."

I cracked up. "Listen, I'll give you a nice long look, so don't think you can't keep your eyes on the road, okay?"

"Great, let's do this." Phil looked as if he were about to explode.

I unclasped my bra strap and whipped off my bra. My jugs popped out and bounced twice as they were unleashed. I have to admit that my nips were about as hard as they could possibly be. Maybe it was the direct sunlight and the air conditioning mixed with my arousal at knowing I had such a great audience -- but I'd have to say I was having a "great tit day." 

"Oh man." Phil let out a sigh.

"Living up to your expectations?"

"Aw Tif, I think you're right. It's not that I'm in love with you or anything, but yeah it's hard not to crush on you right now." 

"See?"

"That's not to say I wouldn't be happy to titty fuck you right now. I mean, those knockers are perfect. Look how huge and round they are -- nice brown nipples too." Even Phil knew it wasn't going to happen, though.

I giggled. "Listen, if yo behave I'll give you a peek in the shower at the motel tonight."

"Right on."

I was just about to pull my bra back on when I heard...

Honk!

On the right side of us was a truck. Phil and I cracked up. 

"Looks like it's time for the second show, Tif."

I hid my head in my hands for a second and then turned to the truck and shook my tits as hard as I could and got the intended response.

Honk! Hooonnnnk!

"I guess he likes what he sees." Said Phil.

"See? Now I don't have any history with this guy. It's so much easier to tease a stranger." 

"Oh, you're teasing more than just a stranger." I could see the outline of Phil's raging hard on – not too shabby.

I grabbed my titties seductively and caressed them tenderly. Then I looked to Phil and said "watch this" as I licked my nipple like a lollipop.

Hooonnnnkkkk! Hooooooonnnnnnkkkkkk! 

The truck lost speed and faded behind us.

"I think somebody has his hands full." I giggled.

"I think trucker-boy just blew his payload. Jesus, that guy's going to need windshield wipers on the inside of his cab." Phil joked.

We laughed for about twenty minutes. 

About a hall hour later, Phil said he needed to hit the can. We pulled into a truck stop and got out. As we approached the Ohio truck stop's entrance, Phil took note of the "Pecan Logs: $3.99" sign. I wandered around the truck stop, noting the pinball machine, sad little gift shop and cheesy little bar/cafe. A few worn out, overweight and underweight road warriors sat slumped at their respective counters and booths. I noticed most of them perk up as I wandered around the lobby. I guess they don't see a 26 year old blonde in tight jeans and tank top without a bra every day. I looked down at my breasts and took note that not only were my nips rock hard, they were also extremely transparent. "What the hell?" I thought to myself, "give the boys a show."

"Fancy meeting you again", I heard from behind me. I turned to find a big, ex football player type with unruly hair unfurling out of your standard trucker hat. He wore a black AC DC tee shirt that probably should have been upgraded to an extra large. He wasn't fat, just a decent beer belly going on. I looked at his steely blue eyes and three day shadow and had no idea who he was.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" I asked him.

"Not as well as I know you." He said in about the sexiest voice I've heard all year.

Just then Phil walked up. I could tell he was trying hard not to lose it.

"I think he's right, Tif. You're the trucker, right?"

He just smiled. "Guilty as charged."

I turned a thousand shades of red as the two of them smiled at me. I could see Trucker sizing up my body. I could almost feel his eyes checking out my ass and belly and up to my tits. I felt a flush of heat shoot through me as I realized this situation was getting hot real fast.

"Ma'am, name's Randy. I just want to thank you for making my day. Hell, you made my month. I hope I didn't creep you out."

"Hey, it's a free road, Randy."

"Well, I'll let you two get on your way." He even tipped his hat.

"Wait, can I ask you something?" I chirped.

"Need directions?"

"No, I need erections." I burst out. About everyone in the bar turned around. Phil and Randy were in shock. "Listen, poor Phil here wants to fuck me something awful. And, I've been resisting because we're just too tight as friends."

"O-kay..." Said Randy, still wondering what the hell was going on.

"But, if I banged Phil and a stranger at the same time -- it wouldn't be nearly as... ...personal. Is that too fucked up?" I looked to Phil.

"Dude, that's weird." Phil said.

"I'm with him." Randy responded.

I leaned up to both of them, rubbing my ripe tits on their arms. "I need your cocks in me now. Are you two pussies into it or should I ask the rest of these guys?" 

It all happened so fast, but I kind of remember the three of us walking to the cab. The trucker, Randy, his greasy hands on my lower back. And Phil, rubbing his hand down the front of my jeans. Both of them putting a hand on each of my ass cheeks and launching me into the cab. I pulled off my jeans and leaned back with my legs spread wide open in the back of that musky cab wearing only a G-string. The two of them climbed over the seat like hungry wolves. Phil looking lean and muscular and all the jock as he pulled off his shirt. I smiled at the image of the trucker looking like a big sweaty bear, his belly hanging over a pair of leopard print bikini briefs - why would i expect anything less? 

I remember catching a glimpse in the rear view mirror. My 26 year old body tight and tan, my big tits even lying back, still erect and firm -- like two small mountains. My light brown hair tossed amply down my shoulders, and me licking my lips in eager anticipation. I wanted this so bad that my panties were soaked. That wasn't a problem; Trucker took four fingers around them and snapped them down ad off -- jamming his index finger into my twat. I ran a hand down Trucker's massive, hairy belly and stuck my hand inside his fly, pulling out the fattest fire hydrant of a cock I've ever seen. It was only five and a half inches long -- but it was easily that wide, fine with me. I worked my right hand around it as Trucker arched back on his knees and groaned loudly. "Oh yeah, Tiffany, you little..."

"You can call me a slut. But, I'm not -- you two boys are the exception. I haven't been fucked in almost two years -- doesn't that make you feel special?"

"Excluding the fact that you're in the back of a strange man's truck - yeah."

Phil and I shared a deep gaze and a laugh as I pulled down his jockey shorts and cranked up his long, slender but gorgeous eight inch firepole. I rubbed it around my tits as he moaned, "Oh Tif, you are so fucking beautiful. Now suck my cock."

"You know I want it. Jam that bad boy down my throat." Phil didn't need to be asked twice, he flipped a leg over my face and jammed his cock between my eager lips and down my wet, slutty throat. My head banged against the cab of the truck lightly as he pumped that prick into my face. I made slurping sounds and gagged at least once. It was hard and uncomfortable, but is tasted so good. With each thrust, Phil's balls slapped against my chin as I worked them with both hands.

"Alright, it's show time", said trucker over Phil's shoulder. Trucker didn't have the greatest view -- but, he didn't seem to mind. His meaty hands took my hips firmly as he eased his baguette sized cock into my pussy. It sank right in and pulsed like a beating heart. He worked it back and forth as I started moaning with Phil's cock in my mouth. The juices rolling over my lips. My lower half squirmed as I pushed up on my heels and offered my twat five inches above the seat -- hovering and grinding and thrusting like a sweaty little truck stop whore. I pulled Phil's angry cock out of my mouth and said, "Fuck my little whore pussy. Shove that fat, oily cock into my tight pussy!"

"You like this dirty fat cock in your tight, pretty pussy?" Trucker asked.

"Yes!" I responded as I ground my pussy deeper under his fat jiggly belly and wrapped my legs in a scissor lock around his waist.

" I gotta' see this!" Phil said as he got off my chest and knelt alongside my hot, writhing body. His dick perched over my lips as I dragged my tongue up and down the base. Moaning like a whore and sucking up his angry balls into my mouth. Still cranking Phil's dick like I was a factory worker.

"Look at that hot little body taking that fat stranger into her neat little pussy." Phil commented. "You look so young and tan and untarnished. And this fat fuck hasn't showered since when, Randy?"

Randy grunted as sweat poured out his forehead and down his unruly locks. "Three days."

"Look at that sweat pouring down his bear chest -- streaming down and over his fat, round belly, through his hairy crotch and into your sweet little pussy. Look at your big perfect cheerleader tits, glowing with greasy trucker sweat. How does that feel?" 

"It's fucking hot!" I screamed as I worked Phil's cock and balls like I had taken a case of ecstasy.

And then the truth came out.

"You could have been my wife. But now you're a little truck stop whore now." I was almost taken out of the real fantast by those words. Phil smiled innocently and said. "Come on, say it." 

"I used to be a good little girl with a tight pussy. But now, I'm a sweaty soiled, truck stop whore who loves stranger's cock!" I laughed and giggled as Trucker pounded me for the final strokes. He burst out a giant whale moan and pulled his cock out of my pussy. I sprang up and took his fat cock into my mouth. I turned to Phil and grabbed his prick as well. He looked reluctant, but he was so close he had no fight in him. I stuffed both cocks into my mouth and jacked them off, slurping them up like a five dollar hooker. They both groaned aloud and arched back. 

Trucker's cocked swelled up even more in my mouth and sputtered out an unbelievable stream of salty jizz into my mouth until the two cocks and jizz load were just too much. I pulled them out and kept stroking the boys, hard. The second burst from Trucker shot like a jet stream over my face and into my hair and onto Phil's stomach.

"You little bitch!" He teased. "You did that on purpose..." He tensed up as he shot fifteen years of grade school crush down my willing throat. The salty load kept pouring down as we heaved and sighed and laughed and hugged. Phil's dick was limp for two minutes before I was done sucking him dry. 

I looked up at Phil and could tell we were still "friends." "Do you think I'm a whore now, Phil?"

"No" said Philas I pumped the last few drops from his limp cock.

"I'm glad." I responded as I licked his balls greedily.

"But, those three dudes outside the truck do."

I raised myself up to see three truckers smiling at my glistening jugs pressed against the window. I looked to Phil and said. "Well, we could use the gas money." 



Truck Stop



ARRIVAL

The dessert is blowing dust around as trucks pull in and out of an isolated truck stop. The truck stop sits at the outskirts of town. The building is slightly run down with the years of sand that have pelted the building. There is a two lane road passing the building. A truck pulls into the parking lot and stops. 

An average man climbs out of the cab. He reaches to the sky, stretching his back from the long drive. One of the nice things about long haul trucking is the lack of nagging companionship. One of the bad things about long haul trucking is the lack of companionship.

'Perhaps I will meet someone interesting here.' he thinks to himself.

The driver looks around the parking lot. There is a Sheriff's car parked outside near the door. There is a black '69 Monty Carlo parked a couple of stalls down. A Cheve Cavaler can almost be seen in the back. Probible the cooks or waitresses car. 

The driver makes his way to the entry of the cafe. Time to get some thing to eat. 

A new red Camaro speed into the parking lot. It screeches to a halt throwing dust and dirt in all directions. The door opens and out comes a females leg wearing red high heels. She is a young fit girl wearing red high heels, a skirt that is too short to cover entire butt, and a white flowing blouse. Her long straight hair is black with a purple high light. Her name is Susan, and she goes by Sue. 

The passengers side door opens and out gets another young fit girl. This one is wearing black high heels, leather bell bottom pants that are tight above the knee and low cut at the waste, and a black leather vest that fastens at the neck and lower back, leaving the rest of her back exposed. Her hair is shaved off for a bald head. There is a tattoo of "69" on her left shoulder blade. Her name is Rebecca, but she goes by Becky. 

The two girls look at each other and smile. They head into the truck stop. They are two girls who know what they are doing. They are on there own and the world is there pay ground. Men and women are to be used and thrown aside like yesterdays news paper.  

ENTERANCE

The cafe is like any other cafe in the mid west. There is a waitress talking with the Sheriff. He is paying more attention to his coffee, rather than what she has to say. The cook is busy in the kitchen. The average man who came before has found a seat and is looking over his menu. 

"Just find a seat any where, huns." the waitress tells the girls. "I will be right over with a menu."

"Don't worry about the menu, we just want coffee, for now." Sue responds and she gives Becky a come hither look. 

They take a seat and the waitress drops off the order of two coffees. Her name tag identifies her as Pam. 

"If you gals want anything else, just let me know." Pam states. "OK, love?"

"You bet we will. When we know what we want, we get it." Becky answers. 

Sue motions to the man sitting at the other booth. He is talking to Pam, placing an order for breakfast. Pam moves off to the kitchen to place his order with the cook, Sammy. 

"He looks like fun." Becky says. 

The man get up and heads for the restroom. Sue gets up and follows him. When she is sure no one will notice, she slips into the men room behind him. 

RESTROOM

The restroom is a larger men's room. It has two urinals and two stalls. There is a counter with three sinks off to the side. 

The man, his name is Thomas and his friends call him Tim, has just finished at the urinal and turns to find Sue standing there. 

"Oh, sorry, I didn't know you where there" He says

"You put that thing away to soon. I think it needs a good cleaning." Sue said as she moves closer to him.

She kneels in front of him and unzips his jeans. She puts out his unit, which is slowly getting firmer by the second. 

"Very nice." Sue tells him. 

She proceeds to lick him up and down the length of his shaft. Tim's head rolls back as he enjoys the treatment. He wast not ready for this encounter, but so enjoyed the surprise. Sue began to take his fullness into her mouth. Up and down she moved. When she go to the up position she would stop and give his top a special lick. It was not long and Tim could not hold back. He unloaded into Sue's mouth. She took the hole thing and licked him clean. 

"There, all clean." Becky's voice filled the room. 

She had entered unnoticed. She must have seen the to whole act. Becky helps Sue get up and gives her a deep long kiss. She pushes Sue back to the counter and helps Sue get on top of the counter. She then lifts the short skirt reviling that Sue is not waring panties. She is shaved and her clit is engorged with the flow of blood. Becky proceeds to lick and savor Sue's womanhood. Tim starts to recover and is showing signs of his desirer to return to the action. 

Becky turns to Tim. 

"It's your turn now." She said.

Becky walks over to Tim and drops his pants to the floor. His unit now at full attention. She guides him to here Sue is waiting. Becky reaches around Tim to grade his cock. She guides him into Sue who throws her head back in pleasure. He thrust back and forth. Sue matches his rhythm. They become one creature bound at the hip. 

Finally Tim reaches his limit again and comes for the second time. He collapses to the floor in total exhaustion. Becky steps over him while Sue regains her compossure. 

"That was hot." Becky said. 

"Thanks, I needed that." Sue said. She then bent down and pave Tim a peck on the cheek. 

They both turned and leave the room. 

KITCHEN

The two girls walked back to their table. On one in the cafe noticed that they had been gone at all. The Sheriff, Officer Lewis, was still chatting with Pam. Becky sat down next to Lewis and Sue moved around to the kitchen. 

"I always have had some kind of weakness for a man in uniform." Becky said to Lewis. 

He gave her a good look over. Something in his core told him that she was trouble. 

"Nice vest." was all that he could think to say. 

"Pam can you come in here?" Tony's voice comes from the kitchen. 

Pam head into kitchen to find that Sue has begun to give Tony a head job. She really enjoys doing this to men. 

"She told me to invite you to join." 

Pam couldn't hold back. She had been a wild lady in her younger years and now was a chance to relive some of her glory years. She wasted no time to take over where Sue was. She took Tony's manhood into her mouth. He was sweat to her taste buds. He was larger that most men she had been with, but she managed to take him completely in her mouth, hitting his balls with her chin.

She had lost track of where Sue had gone to, until she felt the warmth of Sue's mouth attaching her mound. Sue had put head between Pam's legs and started to lick and suck Pam's pussy lips. 

Becky now brought Lewis into the kitchen. He was naked and ready for action. It was not long and Tony and Pam where just as naked as Lewis. 

Tony was taken be Sue and Becky helped Pam to mount him. Pam had know idea what Sue and Becky had in store for her, but she didn't care. She was riding Tony like there was no tomorrow. Becky brought Lewis up behind Pam. She rubbed Pam's only hole that was not busy. Pam was shocked and never had anyone touch her like that. She turned her head to see Becky guiding Lewis'es unit toward her other hole. She was apprehensive at first, but once Lewis was inside her a new wave of pleasure rushed to fill her body.  

The three of them moved like an writhing mass of flesh. Just as the three of them where about to make a climatic ending to the encounter, Tim burst into the kitchen. 

"Those bitches stoled my wallet." He stopped, taken a back by the sight before him. 

Lewis stopped what he was doing and ran out to where he had last seen his clothing. As he was pulling his pants up to his waste Pam came out from the kitchen. She fixed her blouse while she moved to the till. 

She found the till opened and empty. 

"They made off with a whole days take. About five hundred dollars." She looked at Lewis wishing she could just go back to the kitchen and forget the girls where here. 

Lewis now mostly dressed headed out the cafe door. He looked around. He had seen the red Camaro pull up, but now it was gone. 

'This is going to make an interesting report' he thought to himself. 



Truck Stop



Three hours on the road and Susan was already tired, tense, and almost giddy with fatigue, yet still more than an hour from the hotel and Joanne's big bachelorette weekend. She'd hoped to time her arrival so she'd get there sometime after eleven-- early enough to still make an appearance, but late enough that the girls would be too drunk to notice if she quietly slipped away to the hotel cocktail lounge in search of more interesting companionship--but her departure had been more rushed and harried than she'd counted on and the Friday rush hour traffic particularly bad, and now she was pushing it and tired. She really needed to get some coffee or splash some water on her face or just get out and stretch the cramps out of her body.

Around her was nothing but darkness, the interstate running like a corridor between two blocks of infinite emptiness, and the occasional light in the distance only increased her sense of aloneness. Joanne had given her fastidious and complicated directions on how to get to the hotel while avoiding the numerous construction sites that had popped up over the summer, and Susan glanced at them now as she drove, trying to memorize or at least make sense of them. There was a map included, but Susan wasn't that good with maps, especially when she was tooling along at 70 miles an hour trying to read them by the light of her dashboard, her mind already preoccupied with strongly mixed feelings about this whole affair. 

Joanne was a good friend, or had been before she'd gotten engaged. Since then, she'd thrown herself into this whole marriage and wedding thing with alarming eagerness for someone who used to be as cynical and dismissive as Susan herself. They used to make fun of girls who'd get all hysterical about betting married, and now she'd become one herself, milking every party and shower and ritual for all it was worth. It made Susan uncomfortable, especially since she didn't think Joanne's fiancée was any great shakes. A nice guy, but dull. Joanne could have done better. Susan herself would do better, whenever and if ever she finally decided to, and assuming she found a man worthy of that kind of attention. Meanwhile she was content to look and sample occasionally, being every bit as picky and discriminating as she'd always been. She just found this new side of Joanne slightly annoying: her happiness and self-satisfaction came of a little too much as smugness and superiority.

She put down the written directions and picked up Joanne's map and held it against the wheel as she drove, her eyes flicking up and back from road to map, road to map. It was hopeless, though, and frustrating, not to mention dangerous, trying to read a map while driving, and she put it back on the seat to concentrate on driving. The road was surprisingly deserted, almost desolate. She hadn't seen another pair of headlights in a long time.

She wasn't worried though. There should be an oasis or truck stop somewhere not far up ahead, and when she found it she could get some coffee and unkink herself and study the map again, or maybe just ask for directions. People were always happy to give her directions or help her out, and she had no qualms about asking. 

That made he think about the trucker she'd met earlier, and that made her smile. Maybe she'd run into him there, and she imagined his reaction if she were to just sidle up to him and ask him for directions --the way his jaw would drop as he looked up from his coffee, after what she'd done to him earlier. She'd been a perfect little bitch and she really did owe him an apology, and that would make a perfect excuse for her to approach him. She could put on her best little-girl-lost act and explain that she'd been upset and in a hurry and hadn't meant to appear so rude and ungrateful. After all, he'd only been trying to help and her behavior had been inexcusable.

She also wanted to see if she could get him to confess to what he's seen in the trunk of her car. That would be an awful thing to do, but it would be awfully interesting too.She felt her face grow warm as she thought of it, and she pulled her rear-view mirror around so she could see if she were blushing and take a look at just what kind of girl would do something like that.

Her face looked good, though, her makeup still perfect. She tried out her innocent face, then smiled and put the mirror back.

It had been kind of fun, and certainly the most interesting thing that had happened on this whole, deathly dull trip. Sometimes making men squirm was fun.No. Actually, making men squirm was always fun, and that was the problem. It was too tempting, and sometimes it caused trouble, like with this trucker.

She'd just been leaving an oasis shortly after starting out when she'd heard that sickening flop, flop, flop that could only mean a flat tire. Swearing and impatient, she'd immediately pulled over to the shoulder of the expressway entrance ramp and stopped the car, put on her blinkers and gotten out to look at it.

It was flat alright, almost all the way down to the rim, and all she could do was look at it. She was no mechanic, and she was already dressed for the party in her snug charcoal gray skirt and her femmey ivory silk blouse with the bow at the throat, so that all she'd have to do when she got to the party was slip on her stockings and change her driving sandals for heels and she'd be all set. And she certainly wasn't about to ruin her good clothes trying to change a filthy tire, an operation she had only the vaguest notion about anyhow. She'd stood there in the dark by her crippled Yaris, helpless and frustrated as the cars and trucks lucky enough to have intact tires sped past her without so much as a glance.

It was mostly dark before she finally decided she'd have to suck it up and make the hike back to the oasis service station for help, and that's when she heard the crunch of gravel and looked up to see the big, black, semi rolling to a stop on the shoulder behind her car, engine rumbling and air brakes hissing. She was already in a snit by now, having had ample time to feel ignored and resentful. It was about time, she thought, and she stood there impatiently as his air brakes huffed and squealed and he brought that big behemoth to a stop maybe ten feet away, leaving her standing in the glare of his headlights.

He turned off his brights and now she could see it better. The thing was huge, even overwhelming, and it dwarfed her little Yaris in a way that gave her a strange excited tingle. Except for instinctively pulling her skirt down when one passed her on the highway, she'd never really paid much attention to trucks before, but now one stood only a few steps away, rumbling and threatening, and she looked at the massive chrome grill and huge, dark windows with something like awe, or as much awe as she could muster in her irritation. 

The cab was black and decorated with elaborate electric-green pin-striping and festooned with lights so it looked like the demon spawn of an angry whale and a carnival fun house. The escutcheon on the front said "Kenworth," and whatever wasn't painted and pin-striped was chromed and gleaming. Up and toward the back of the cab the roof jogged upwards, and Susan remembered that long-haul trucks often had actual beds in them so the drivers could spell each other without stopping. Apparently, this one had a queen-size. 

The door had opened and a man had swung out, a very good-looking man, not too young, just about Susan's fantasy age, the age of natural authority. (Not the age of the men she actually dated, though, who tended to be much younger and easily biddable.) His jaw was dark with stubble and his eyes were hidden behind mirrored sunglasses, even though the sun had set and it was dark enough for headlights. He'd paused there leaning out of his cab looking at her, then jumped down and strolled over. He was wearing tight jeans and Western boots and a black tank top that showed off big shoulders, a tight waist, and smoothly muscled arms. His hands were covered by black leather fingerless gloves that looked like they'd seen some use, and Susan noticed them at once. She liked men's hands, and secretly she liked leather, and his hands in those gloves looked wonderfully wicked. He was what Joanne would have called U.S. Choice, Triple A Restaurant Grade back in her pre-engagement days, when they talked about men in such terms.

Susan crossed her arms over her breasts , having absolutely no faith in her gauzy bra's ability to protect her and well aware of her nipples' alarming propensity to stiffen at the most embarrassing times, and tried to strike the right pose between female strength and feminine helplessness. She needed someone's help, but she refused to be intimidated by this man or his truck and she certainly wasn't going to beg or grovel. She wished she hadn't left her jacket in the car. 

"Trouble?" he asked, and Susan just nodded toward the tire.

" It went totally flat just like that, just as I was leaving the oasis. And of course it would be now, at the worst possible time, just when I need to be somewhere."

He nodded.

"On business," she added.

He leaned over and looked at the tire and Susan got a good look at his tight, male ass in those snug jeans. A red bandana hung from his back pocket, like a warning flag. 

Susan checked herself. He might be U.S. Choice Triple A and great fantasy material, but he was a truck driver and hardly up to her standards. The right tone here was one of polite, professional detachment, as when dealing with an underling at work: pleasant, but not inviting. 

"How's the spare?" he asked.

She was so distracted, she didn't understand the question at first. 

"Oh!" She reached into the car and popped the trunk release, then hurriedly grabbed her jacket from the back seat and threw it on as he moved around to the back of the car. It was quite warm, but she wanted the protection just the same.

She heard him moving things in the trunk and suddenly froze in a horror of embarrassment as she remembered what was back there: all the gag gifts for Joanne's party--sex toys and vibrators, dildoes, cuffs and chains and whips--all the things she could find online to spice up the bachelorette weekend, and most of them still unwrapped. Of course she'd been put in charge of this part of the festivities, a role she'd rather prided herself on as the group's resident kink expert. But now... There was even an inflatable male love doll!

She held her breath, wondering if she should try to explain, but she couldn't move, and she knew instinctively that condescending to explain would only make things worse. Other trucks were rumbling by, grinding gears and up shifting as they merged onto the interstate, and she wondered if they could see into her trunk too and see all these dirty toys displayed. 

He seemed to be back there an awfully long time, but finally she heard the thunk of the spare hitting the ground and he emerged holding the jack, his face blank as far as she could tell.

"Spare's good," he said matter-of-factly. "Full sized, too. You don't see that in these little cars. It should get you where you're going."

Susan smiled tightly but didn't know what else to say. She stood by the guardrail as the trucker got down and loosened the lugs and then jacked up the car and replaced the tire.

"I really appreciate this," she said weakly. "It's really good of you to help me out like this."

He worked without speaking, his expression blank behind the mirrored glasses, or did she detect a little smirk? She watched him, the way the muscles in his arms flexed as he worked, and she burned with embarrassment. He quickly had the lugs back on and finger-tight, then lowered the car and removed the jack. He stood up and torqued the nuts down till they squeaked, then popped the wheel cover back on and hammered it into place with the heel of his hand. So the gloves were for more than just show, she thought.

The whole thing had taken maybe five minutes. He picked up the flat in one hand and the jack in the other and carried them around to the trunk.

Again, he seemed to take a long time to stow the stuff away, and now she was sure he was going through the gifts and snickering, maybe making a mental list to share with his trucker buddies on his CB. Soon everyone would know about this hot brunette in her Yaris with a trunk full of fuck-toys, and they'd be flashing lights at her and honking for the rest of the trip. 

He slammed the trunk and came around toward her, wiping his hands on his bandana and showing her the first real grin she'd seen. He'd taken his sunglasses off and they hung from the front of tank top. In the glow of the truck's headlights, his eyes were absurdly beautiful, a very pale brown and terribly deep. She hadn't expected that, and his eyes and the smile infuriated her. She knew why he was smiling.

"Well, thank you very much," she said with as much ice in her voice as she could muster. "Let me give you something for your trouble." 

She reached into her wallet and found a twenty and held it out to him. "Is this enough?"

He waved her off with a smile, but Susan persisted.

"Thirty, then?" she asked. "Forty? Fifty?"

"No, lady, that's alright. It's just a courtesy of the road."

His smile angered her. At least to his credit he'd called her "lady." Had he called her "honey" or "baby" or shown the faintest sign of a smirk, there's no telling what she would have done. 

"Just a courtesy of the road?" She added a ten to the twenty in her hand and thrust the bills at him. "Here. For your trouble. If I were you I'd take it, because that's really all you're going to get!"

He stared at her blankly, and she saw the double reflection of her angry face in his stupid mirrored sunglasses, and that so infuriated her that she just threw the money at him and turned and marched to her car and got in. She started it up and began to pull away, then stopped and put her head out the widow, craning her neck around to see him.

"I happen to be a salesperson!" she exclaimed. "Those are my samples. I'm a salesperson! That's all it is, so grow up!"

She threw the car into gear and stomped on the gas, hoping to squeal away in a screech of tires and a spray of gravel, but the polite little Yaris refused to cooperate, and instead she pulled away from him with frustrating and almost humiliating slowness. She never dared look back.

* * *

But that had been some hours ago, and as the initial anger and humiliation had faded and the tedium of the drive had grown, Susan first realized the humor of the situation, and then its erotic potential, like the set-up for some old dirty joke. Meanwhile no trucks had honked at her, or flashed their lights, or given any sign of having been tipped off about her, so she supposed her fears of the trucker spreading rumors had been unfounded, maybe even a kind of secret fantasy. 

She remembered that handsome jaw and the strength in those arms and shoulders; the virility of his ass and the dark suggestiveness of those wicked leather gloves. She remembered how quiet he'd been and how inscrutable, a kind of Clint Eastwood masculinity she'd always found irresistible in fantasy, and threatening in real life. He'd been the kind of man who could be dangerous once he'd set his mind on something, who wouldn't take no for an answer. 

And she'd made him angry! She'd been rude to him and pissed him off! What might he have done to her had he dragged her into his truck to teach her some manners? What kind of sensual revenge would he inflict on her? Would he make her unlock the trunk again and use those toys on her and call her dirty names? Or worse, make her use them on herself as he watched?

She drove on in the dark, playing one CD after another till she was bored with them, then searching the radio dial, then just turning it off and driving in silence. The music irritated her. So did the party. And the trucker. She'd been driving for too long and the cramped interior and the car's vibrations were getting to her, and so were the clothes she was wearing and her thin, seductive underwear. All those and the enclosing darkness conspired to keep her at a level of low, simmering desire. She couldn't stop thinking about his shoulders and his eyes; the strong hands in the leather, fingerless gloves, the big truck with the bed in the cab. 

Why, she wondered, did she fantasize about one kind of man and yet always pursue another? It had never really occurred to her before, but in her sexual dreams it was always someone like the trucker, someone hard and passionate and implacable, who'd take her and use her and make her do things she'd never ordinarily do, quenching his lust in her body. And yet the men she went after--like the type of man she envisioned meeting tonight in the hotel bar--were all essentially nice guys: considerate, respectful, polite, and earnest in their honest but uncertain efforts to please her.

The answer was easy, she thought: fantasy was fantasy, and reality was a different matter altogether. In fantasy you walked fearlessly into the lions' den. In reality you looked for a small dog you could walk on a short leash.

She made herself stop thinking about all that. She sat up straight and deliberately focused her attention on the road. When at last she saw the GAS FOOD LODGING sign that signaled a truck stop ahead, she sighed with relief and put her turn signal on far in advance of the exit. Not that it mattered. She hadn't seen a car for miles.

She slowed down as soon as she hit the ramp and slid her window down. Warm, humid air filled the car, and she turned off the AC and leaned her head out the window, bathing her face in the breeze and letting it wash through her hair. She smelled fertile earth with a touch of fall and the more subtle scent of cooling concrete and tarmac and gasoline, the smells of the road.

The truck stop wasn't one of the big, national franchises she'd expected, but was instead an older and somewhat seedier place. The gas pumps and service station (closed at this time of night) still dominated one end of the huge, empty lot, but the restaurant-coffee shop off to the side had a worn and down-at-the-heels look. Behind the coffee shop and up a slight hill there was what appeared to be a motel, mostly dark, with an old "Welcome Truckers" sign. 

The fresh air revived her, surprisingly so, so that by the time she pulled into the car park area, she'd changed her plans. Instead of heading immediately for the restaurant and some hot coffee, she drove toward the far end of the lot where she could park in the night shadows of some big trees. She needed to unkink her muscles and a good stretch and the walk to the restaurant should do it, but first she needed to turn off the car and just close her eyes and savor the silence for a moment.

She'd just turned the car off and was leaning back in her seat when she happened to notice the semi's parked and idling in the shadowy darkness at the far end of the lot, and there it was: the big black and green Kenworth: his truck. She knew it immediately.

Her tiredness was forgotten. She normally couldn't tell one truck from another, but she knew this was his, there was no mistaking it, and she sat there for a while just gazing at it, trying to understand how he could have beaten her here. She didn't remember him passing her, but he must have to have arrived here first. 

But then, she really hadn't been paying much attention. She'd been lost in a fog, in day dream and fantasies, and it's entirely possible he'd passed her somewhere along the way. 

But he hadn't honked. He hadn't flashed his lights or blown his air horn or come up and tailgated her or done anything to harass or even acknowledge her, and that bothered her. After the rude and unconscionable way she'd treated him, didn't he at least owe her the discourtesy of an insult? She'd been terrible and she admitted it and was ready to apologize, and here he'd just ignored her. Ignored the whole thing, like she didn't even matter or he couldn't be bothered.




Truck Stop



She stared at his truck but it was impossible to see inside. The engine was running, she had no doubt of that, but the lights were all off except for some amber and white markers on the cab and some strangely intense blue lights that appeared to be on the mirrors. The various lights confused her. Did they mean something? That he was inside the truck, away from the truck, eating, sleeping? She didn't know. The big front windshield was made almost opaque by the truck's inner darkness. It was like a black mirror reflecting the leaves of the big poplar trees at the edge of the lot as they were tossed in the warm and fitful breeze. She sat and watched his truck for a long time, but there was no movement, and at last she pulled her eyes away and let out a long breath. 

She needed to focus and come back to reality and forget about him. She needed to go in and use the washroom, get some coffee, and then find someone who could help her make sense of these directions. She stuffed the map and the directions into her bag, opened the door and stepped out onto the tarmac

She knew her ivory blouse must be visible to anyone in the truck even at this distance, so she kept one eye on it as she took just to inhale the warm air and stretch. She held the cuffs of the blouse against her palms as she stretched, throwing her shoulders back and pushing her arms out behind her. It was a trick Joanne had taught her years ago. Holding the sleeves drew the fabric tight against her breasts as she stretched, just in case anyone was watching. But nothing moved as far as she could tell. 

She was about to lock the car and walk over to the coffee shop when she paused and reconsidered. The breeze was blowing her skirt and even wafting inside her blouse, The night was romantic, and she felt feminine and free. She opened the car door and reached into the passenger well to retrieve the hot little shoes she'd just bought for Joanne's party, took them out of their tissue-lined box and kicked off her sandals. She slipped the heels onto her feet and stood up. 

There. She now stood about two and half inches taller than before, and felt a lot more impressive and confident. She knew exactly what the shoes did for her legs, and Susan had great legs. She picked up the sandals and threw them into the car, then locked the door and headed briskly across the lot for the coffee shop.

She walked briskly but leisurely too. The breeze felt good and so did using her legs and the way her heels made her hips sway against her skirt. She stood up straight but not too straight. She knew how to use the walk, and if he was in the truck, she gave him a good long look. 

The coffee shop was brightly lit and icy cold, the air conditioner jacked all the way up. There were some families eating weary dinners and a booth full of youngish-looking women in garish makeup and teased hair laughing and talking too loudly in the far corner, but mostly it was truckers as far as she could tell, in baseball caps and quilted vests, sweatshirts and chained wallets. She stood by the door holding her bag and scanned the place, casually searching for him as she looked for the ladies' room, but she didn't see him, and her disappointment annoyed her even as she brushed it aside. The sign for the restrooms was clear, posted on the back wall, and pointed toward a corridor way back beyond the booth full of girls.

Susan was used to the stares of men and their various permutations and she knew how to handle them, but there was something about the way these truckers stared at her that was a little disconcerting, as if they were really sizing her up. Some of them put down their coffee cups or stopped eating to check her out, a few even leaning out of their booths to get a better look at her legs as she walked by. She felt like she was being openly appraised, and it was a bit unsettling. Even the girls in the booth stopped their chatter and stared at her, and the sisterly smile she gave them was met with palpable coolness.

It was just a creepy place, she decided. Something Twilight Zone-ish about it. The corridor leading to the restrooms was grimy and turned left and then right. Several lights were out and some of the floor tiles were loose, so she was thankful to find the ladies' room fairly clean and well-maintained. She used the toilet then came out and washed her hands, then washed again and splashed cool water in her face, holding her hands there as the water dripped through her fingers. It felt good and seemed to revive her. Suddenly she was tired of this: tired of driving and tired of this silly game she was playing with the trucker. She wanted to get to Joanne's and the hell with all this.

She dried her face and then brushed out her hair, and after freshening her makeup she decided she felt much better. She decided she'd get her coffee to go at the counter, and ask the waitress there for help with the directions. She had no desire to sit in this place and drink coffee and be stared at, the only solo woman. All she had to do now was run the gauntlet and get to the counter, get her coffee and information, and she'd be at the hotel in less than an hour.

She straightened her skirt and fluffed the bow at the throat of her blouse, feeling much better, more like her old self, but when she took her bag and stepped out into the corridor, she found three truckers standing there blocking her way back into the restaurant, and blocking it deliberately. Two of them leaned on the wall and the third stood in the middle of the corridor. They looked like they'd been waiting for her and Susan felt a sick flicker of panic in her stomach. 

The man in front wore a hoody sweatshirt and a Texas rangers cap. He touched his fingers to the bill and said, "Evening, honey. You must be new here, huh? I don't believe I've seen you 'round before."

The man behind him was big, professional-wrestler sized, and he pushed the first man away. "You're out of order, Mel! Get out of the way!" He looked apologetically at Susan. "Missy, you don't want anything to do with this buttwipe! I was the one saw you first, soon's you walked in that door, and fair is fair."

Mel turned. "Mind your own manners, Hamilton! This ain't finders-keepers and that's not how it works. And didn't I hear you say you were already three hours overdue and you had no time for dicking around?" 

The third man ignored this exchange and peered around Hamilton's bulk, leering at her. He smiled and closed his eyes, then extended an obscenely long tongue and wagged it at her in a way Susan realized was intended to be sexual.

She stood speechless, horrified and afraid. Hamilton and the first guy were arguing, and Susan started backing up, feeling along the wall behind her for the door to the ladies' room, hoping they wouldn't follow her in, when suddenly she felt a hand on her upper arm. She turned, and saw the hand in the fingerless glove wrapped around her upper arm. She turned and saw her trucker, sunglasses off now, his expression soft, yet serious.

"I'm afraid you boys are mistaken," he said. "This lady's a friend of mine and just passing through. She doesn't work here or have anything to do with this place. Just passing through."

The three men looked at him with various expressions of anger and disappointment, but he didn't give them time to reply. He pulled her back down the corridor and away from them, around a corner, and then out through a big glass door that led into the parking lot. But even outside he didn't let go of her, holding her arm tightly and half-pulling her, half-marching her away from the coffee shop and into the darkness and warmth of the night. He carried her along till they'd put a good fifty yards between themselves and the shop, and then he let go of her.

"My God!" Susan gasped. "What was all that about?"

"Don't worry about it," he said. "Just a case of mistaken identity." His answer seemed to please him and he smiled.

Susan, however, only now felt the surge of adrenal fear. She'd been too shocked and surprised while it had been going on, but now she suddenly felt her legs start to grow weak and her ankles wobbled in the new shoes. He took her arm again--her forearm this time--and guided her along, almost lifting her up as she slumped against him. 

He nodded down at her feet. "Those your driving shoes?"

"These? No, I..."

He smiled. "You want to watch what you wear in there. Some people get the wrong ideas."

Slowly, as her panic subsided, she understood what he was saying: the seedy truck stop, the shabby motel; lonely, horny men. The garishly-dressed girls with the teased hair. And her walking in in her sexy party clothes and her brand-new wicked heels.

"Oh my God!" she said. "Oh my God I don't believe it! They thought I was a--?"

"You would have been fine. They would have figured out they made some mistake and that would have been it, red faces all around but no harm done. Or not much anyhow."

She felt suddenly weak again, weak and incredibly stupid. She stopped short and he stopped with her, keeping an eye on her and waiting patiently for her shock to pass.

"You're lucky I saw you when you pulled in," he said. "I was in the truck, catching up my log, but you're pretty hard to miss dressed like that. I knew right off you'd draw some attention, and probably not the kind you wanted."

"I can't believe it! They thought I was... working there?"

He took her arm and started them walking again, headed for her car.

"This is a funny place," he said. "A lot of gypsies stop here, and over-limits, illegals, scale-dodgers. They attract a certain kind of crowd. Not that they're bad people, no worse than anyone else and just trying to make a living, but sometimes it can get a little wild west." 

"Wow," she said. "I never would have dreamed..."

"No. Why should you? This isn't your world. You're just a tourist. Just passing through. You have to live here to understand."

She snuck a look at him, just to check, and sure enough, her heart did something heart-ish. He was gorgeous and he was dangerous, and he was the closest she'd ever been to the kind of man she dreamt about in her fantasies.

"This is the second time tonight you've saved me," she said. 

He looked down and smiled, and his smile, when it came, was disarming: charmingly boyish and a little naughty, as if he knew smiling was against the rules but he was going to do it anyway.

"Yeah," he said, and he put the smile away and looked at her. "That's funny, isn't it? Almost like it means something."

He looked at her and Susan was caught in his gaze. She desperately tried to think of something to say, but nothing would come. Finally she said, "Listen-- I wanted to tell you. About what happened before, at the oasis back there with my tire and everything..."

He shrugged, and that shrug broke her heart, because it wasn't the "aw-shucks-it-weren't-nothing" shrug she'd been expecting. Instead it was a gesture of real indifference, and it meant that the way she'd behaved back there had alienated him to the point where he really didn't care about her. He'd withdrawn and made himself unavailable, and in that instant Susan saw that he stopped to help all sorts of people, and that some people were gracious and warm about it and made him feel good, and others were ungrateful assholes about it and those he just cut off and didn't think about any more. And Susan had planted herself firmly in this latter group.

" Here's your car," he said. He stopped some ten feet away, as if he didn't dare get too close. 

Susan didn't know what to do. She almost felt as if she should invite him inside, maybe offer him a ride over to his truck, which was absurd. She had no choice but to walk to her car.

"There's another place around six, seven miles down the road where you can get your coffee and whatever else you need," he said. "It's all legit, all licensed and inspected, and no one's going to give you any trouble. Can you make it that far? You got your keys?"

Susan looked in her bag and suddenly started shaking. Her hands started shaking and she felt a chill, as if in a delayed response to the scene in the coffee shop, but she knew that wasn't it. He'd turned and started walking back to his truck, leaving her alone and she didn't want him to go. She couldn't accept that, though, and she wouldn't, and so her hands were shaking as she fumbled through her bag for her keys, her mind insisting that she find them and leave and her hands refusing to obey.

She finally found them, got the key in the lock and opened the door, then stood there, still unable to get into the car. He was only ten yards away or so, maybe less.

"Wait!" she called. "Wait! I don't even know your name."

He turned around, walking backwards, and she saw the Smile again. " Cropper," he said. "Mark Cropper."

He turned back and kept on walking, and in desperation she yelled, "I'm Susan. Susan Delacourt." As if that would stop him. As if that meant anything to him.

He waved idly over his shoulder but didn't stop, and Susan watched him go. He took his time crossing the empty lot and finally reached his truck, unlocked the door, then pulled himself up and into the cab. The door closed and all was still except for the wind in the trees and the faint rumble of the idling diesels. 

Susan sighed and got into the car. She locked the doors, put the key in the ignition, then put her hands on the wheel and sat there, listening to nothing, thinking of nothing, just feeling the low murmur of the parked trucks' engines in her body, like the purring of so many huge, sleeping jungle cats. The wind gusted and buffeted her car and made it rock, but she hardly noticed. The fear was gone now, the fear from the coffee shop, and had been replaced by a familiar, mild sadness. It was what she felt whenever she was alone with nothing to occupy her mind, and it was a feeling she dreaded. It wasn't a pain so much as it was an emptiness that was always there, even under the noise of her other activities and diversions, as if it were her heart's own idling speed. 

But it was anger she was aware of now, a softly glowing anger. Anger at the sadness and at the men in the restaurant and at Mark too for leaving her so easily like this, for treating her so casually and dismissively. She knew she should just start the car and get out of here before something else happened, but she couldn't. She was all alone here, sitting parked in this empty lot somewhere off this endless, faceless highway, neither here nor there but some place in between, with nothing but her thoughts and feelings and this idling sadness that was making her angry, and she didn't know what to do. 

She stared at his truck. Nothing moved: no lights went on, no change in the hum of the engine, no signs of life. Maybe he was going to sleep in there. Maybe he was finishing his log. Maybe he was in there thinking about her and masturbating. Who knew what he was doing?

Minutes passed with nothing moving but the wind and the shadows from the trees. Another semi pulled into the lot, engine revving, brakes squealing; one pulled out and headed for the highway. A family left. The trees stirred in the late summer wind.

Finally Susan reached into the bag on the seat beside her and took out the package of charcoal gray, seamed, Cuban-heel, thigh-high stockings she'd bought for the party. She punctured the cellophane with her thumb nail and tore it off, unwrapped the stockings and shook them out. They were wicked things, wonderfully lethal when used with the right amount of decorum and finesse. The seams had an almost supernatural ability to arouse and attract men, and the stockings were just high enough to expose a tantalizing glimpse of the intimate thigh-encircling tops when she sat on a barstool with torso and legs arranged just so, perhaps judiciously controlling the amount of skin or stocking revealed through a few innocent and surreptitious adjustments of her skirt as the situation warranted. She had met few, if any, women who were as adept and effective at using stockings and the flesh of the upper thigh to such devastating effect. 

She took a stocking now and rolled it up, inserted her foot, then unrolled it along the length of her smooth, tanned leg and smoothed it out, watching her progress with a cool, professional eye. She circled her fingers around her ankle and drew them up over the stocking, snugging it up and drawing it tight till the fit was flawless and the seams impeccably straight. Then she did the other leg, taking her time, enjoying the sensation of her hands on her body as much as she enjoyed the sensual embrace of the stocking on her leg and the slickness of it under her hands. 

Putting on stockings always relaxed and aroused her simultaneously, and put her in a place that was as close as she ever expected to get to meditative bliss, calm and energized and sexy and empowered. The experience was always enhanced by the knowledge that she wasn't doing this for herself, but for someone else's pleasure. But she didn't think about that now. Putting on her stockings just seemed like a good idea.

Susan adjusted her skirt and checked her makeup in the mirror, slipped her heels back on and opened the door and stepped out. She took her bag and, despite the tightness she felt in her nipples, deliberately left her coat behind, lying on the back seat. She locked the car, dropped her keys in her bag, and set out toward the dark, idling truck.

She didn't know why she was doing this or what she hoped to accomplish, but she had no doubt she was doing the right thing, and that certainty only increased as the truck got closer and the engine got louder. The breeze lifted her hair and played with her skirt. She was aware of everything.

She got all the way to the truck and still there was no sign of life, no acknowledgement of her approach. It loomed above her like a dark and impregnable fortress, almost arrogant in its size and power. Susan looked up at it, looking for some chink in its armor, and then, not knowing what else to do, she stepped up and knocked on the driver's side door.

She was surprised when the window slid down and she saw him sitting there way high up, bathed in a soft yellowish green glow emanating from the inside of the cab. The light showed only through the open window. All the other windows were black as polished onyx. 

He looked down at her for a moment, his face a mask. "Yeah?"

It was like petitioning a dragon. "I need help," she said. "I need help with these directions. Can you let me in?"

"Let you in? The cab?"

She nodded, craning her head back to look at him.

"Can't," he said. "Against regulations. Insurance."

She stood there looking up at him. The breeze ruffled through her thin blouse and lifted her hair. The engine thrummed.

He either sighed or gave a little derisive laugh, she couldn't tell.

"Okay," he said. "Come around the other side and be careful climbing up. Use the grab bars to pull yourself up. The first step's a bitch."

Susan walked around to the passenger side. There was a solid click as he unlocked the door, then it swung open, revealing the hidden secret world of the cab. She saw green lights and yellow lights, orange lights and red lights. Rows of chromed dials with quivering needles. It might have been the inside of a UFO. She took hold of the grab bars and lifted her foot in its ridiculously inappropriate shoe to the bottom rung of the ladder.

He'd been right: the bottom step was high--very high--and she felt her skirt ride up and stretch tight as she raised her leg to reach for it; so high she felt the warm breeze on her bare upper thighs and on a damp spot in her panties she hadn't known was there. He was watching her, looking right at her, and he surely must have seen up her skirt to the tight, bulge of panty-covered flesh between her legs, but what could she do about it? Both hands were on the grab bars and she wasn't about to let go. She hauled herself up and found the other steps easily enough, feeling more foolish for still wearing her heels than for flashing him. 




Truck Stop



She was surprisingly high above the ground, and Mark reached over and took her arm and pulled her into the cab. She plopped down on the wide leather seat and smiled awkwardly at him, hurriedly smoothing down her skirt and checking her stockings. He hit some switch that automatically pulled her door closed with a hydraulic hiss and she heard the latch catch, then the solid, final, snap of the locks. She was locked in.

Now that she was inside, she was amazed at how easy it was to see out. The windows must be treated something like a one-way mirror, because it had been all but impossible to see into the cab from outside, but from inside and from this height, she could see everything. It was a strange sense of power. The cab smelled like leather and cigars and diesel fuel and coffee, with a vague hint of some ancient masculine cologne--his smell, she realized, and the thought pleased her. The light from above was yellowish-green, the lights from the instruments shining up was a lurid orange-red. She felt like she'd wandered into the den of a magical cave bear.

Mark was looking at her--staring--and Susan tried to pretend she didn't notice, as if sitting locked in a man's truck was an everyday occurrence for her. 

"I really want to apologize for the way I acted before, when you helped me with the tire," she said reasonably. "I mean, really. I was running late and I was upset and maybe even a little frightened and intimidated, although that's no excuse for the way I acted, which was rude and inexcusable..."

He just sat and watched her, the openness of his gaze disarming, as if he could see right inside her. When she looked at him, he seemed to be just the slightest bit amused.

"So I'm sorry," she concluded. "I really am sorry."

He waited, and when it was obvious she was done, he said. "That's quite alright, Susan." He put special emphasis on her name. "No apology is necessary. I can understand your consternation. A lone trucker stopping to help an attractive young woman on the highway..."

Consternation?? He kept throwing her curves, defying her expectations and keeping her off guard. Her normal reaction in such situations was to push back.

"Yes, well..." She decided to change the subject before he mentioned the contents of her trunk. "Anyhow, what I really wanted to ask you about was these directions..." she fumbled in her purse and handed him the map. He took it, turned it right side up and studied it.

"Mmm," he said. "Let's see what the big map says."

He pulled a road map out of a pocket in his door and opened it up in the cab till it was the size of a small blanket. He refolded and arranged it till the part he wanted was resting on her lap.

He pointed to a spot that was about halfway up her thigh. 

"We're here," he said. He tapped the spot for emphasis, then pressed his finger against it, and Susan tried not to jump. She could feel his finger quite clearly through the paper.

"You want to be here," he said, and he slid his finger up the map following some road, tracing a line on her thigh that went up toward her body, and then in, uncomfortably close to her pussy.

"Now, you could go this way," he said, and he traced another route along her map-covered thighs. "But your directions say to take this cut-off here and swing around the city..." A sweeping semicircle across the inside of her other thigh. 

"You getting this?" he asked, looking into her eyes. "You want to maybe write this down?"

Susan was staring at the map but seeing nothing but his finger in the leather glove, pressing against her thigh, separated from her bare skin by no more than the thickness of a piece of paper. Her nipples were hard. She could feel their eager erection protruding through her gauzy bra and making obvious points in her ivory silk blouse. And suddenly, just like that, she knew why she'd come here and why she'd climbed into his cab, why she'd risked getting her clothes dirty and why she'd put on her stockings and her heels. It was ridiculously obvious and had been all along, and the only reason she hadn't seen it was because she hadn't wanted to.

Mark had seen it, though. He'd seen it some time ago and he'd tried to warn her away but she just wouldn't be put off. He'd given her fair warning and done everything he could to avoid it, but she'd persisted and now he was hardly responsible for what happened. She'd done it all herself. 

He slowly slid the map off her lap, exposing her legs in her short gray skirt, and despite the stockings, Susan suddenly felt revealed and very naked. He turned to her and put his arm over the back of her seat.

"Now why don't we talk about what you really want? " His left hand started sliding up the inside of her thigh and beneath her skirt, his fingers grazing her bare flesh. "It wasn't directions, was it?"

"Mark, what are you doing? What are you talking about?" 

She sat there frozen, feeling his fingers creeping up the inside of her thigh, afraid to push his hand away and acknowledge what he was doing. She leaned away from him but he had his arm around her shoulders and instead of moving back, her hips started to slip forward on the seat, her skirt riding up as she did so. She was sliding under him in slow motion, falling back on the seat as the hem of her skirt crept up her thighs.

"Wait a minute! Wait!" She grabbed at her skirt, trying to push it down. "I'm not like this. I don't do these kinds of things. You're making a mistake! I just wanted directions, that's all. Just directions!"

As if she'd never noticed it before, she realized the nerves in her thighs were connected directly to her pussy, and his touch was causing her to lubricate and her pussy to swell of its own volition, in strict disobedience to her wishes. She was getting excited. She was afraid, and yet she was getting excited. 

"I'm not one of those girls in the truck stop. I have a job. I work. I don't do this..."

And then he was lying on top of her, touching her, and Susan couldn't think. His fingers pressed against the embarrassing damp spot in her panties just as his mouth came down on hers, muffling her cry of alarm with a kiss that shocked her with its hunger and immediately called up some answering response from deep inside that she didn't dare look at.

Her left arm was trapped against the back of the seat but her right arm was free, and she used it to push against him, trying to push him off. But his fingers against her pussy were draining the strength from her body and her palm flattened weakly against his chest and achieved nothing. She'd might as well have been trying to push the whole truck. He was unyielding, dense with muscle and strength; his chest and shoulders alarmingly hard. She tried to dig her nails into his bare shoulder but she hardly made a dent. He was like marble, and it thrilled her.

She knew she was falling, losing her grip on herself, so she cried out again and again tried to squirm away, writhing like a fish in a boat, but she only succeeded in sliding all the way down so she was lying flat on the seat, her traitorous skirt again sliding up and baring the skin all the way to her panties. His weight was on her, his leg wedged between her knees trying to lever her thighs apart while Susan fought to keep them together, a battle she knew couldn't win. He grabbed her free right arm with his left hand and held it down against the seat as he devoured her mouth and rubbed her through her panties, then switched it to his other hand, the one that reached behind her shoulders, so she was encircled by his strength.

She was totally helpless, pinned beneath him and held down, and he wasn't going to let her go. Her right arm was held above her head, and she was horrified to realize that her nipples were visibly hard, poking through the thin silk blouse: a sure sign of her body's arousal. His left hand was playing with her pussy, both stimulating her and checking the level of her arousal, and the ripples of lewd, mind-numbing pleasure that raced through her body made her panic. Her pussy was going to betray her just as her nipples had, and she could feel it beginning to swell with hot, excited blood. Soon it would start to visibly ooze, then throb, obeying his fingers and his crushing desire, and there was nothing she could do.

"No! Let me go! Let me go!" Or that's what she tried to say, but with her mouth forced open and his tongue filling it, all that came out was a kind of frantic moan that could have meant anything: anger, fear, or urgent, imploring lust.

She tried to will him to stop. She tried to ignore him, to make her body passive so it wouldn't respond, but he was stroking her and urging her, and she was so tense and wound up from the driving and the worrying and the tiny, cramped car that her body longed for release. She yearned for touch and sensation and savagery, and he was giving it to her, and Susan felt herself melting under his assault. Her cries diminished and become more like beseeching moans as he pressed his fingers against her greedy, selfish pussy and seemed to come to terms with it, seemed to come to some sort of understanding she was not a party to, and she realized with alarm her that her body had already surrendered and gone over to his side. Her legs were parting and she was kissing back, throwing open her gates to his invading army, her troops deserting her everywhere she looked.

she began to whine and whimper into his open mouth, begging him for terms, for an honorable surrender, pleading with him as best she could to spare her pride and dignity, but it was too late. The city was already burning, the towers ablaze, and he was rampaging through the streets. She tried to tell him that she might come if he kept this up, that she'd lose everything to this delicious combination of his touch, her helplessness, and the thrilling shame of being so blatantly used, but he wasn't listening.

And what if she did cum like this? What if she did orgasm from being forced and fondled in his dark truck, her legs spread and skirt up? What could say to him then? What would he think of her? If he knew this rough treatment excited her enough to make her climax, what would he do to her next? 

Just in time his hand left her pussy and came up and took her breast through her blouse, squeezing it, possessing it, rubbing his thumb rudely over her erect nipple as he kissed her mouth. Her sheer, gauzy bra and the thin silk offered no protection whatsoever, and Susan groaned anew under him as he played with her. It was good. It was deeply, profoundly god, and her nostrils flared as she instinctively pushed herself up into his hand. Her breasts were exquisitely sensitive and loved rough treatment when she got this excited, the nerves seeming to connect directly to that special spot between her legs so she felt her pussy spasm desperately, sucking on empty air, aching for some hardness to fill it. She realized her hips were moving, rubbing herself against the rough hardness of his thigh, but she couldn't seem to stop them. She moaned again as she felt her own secretions begin to wet her panties, lubricating her so the fabric began to slide against her on a slippery layer of her own lascivious exudations.

She was lost, and she knew it. She'd been lost as soon as she'd climbed into the truck, and this was exactly what she'd wanted, what she'd needed. She had no fight left in her, no will to resist. All she had now was need, this basic elemental need, and she wanted him to take her and do things to her. She wanted him to take everything she had to give, because nothing she had was of any value unless he wanted it.

Mark could feel the change as he squeezed and massaged her breast and slid his thumb around her eager and erect nipple. Her strength had failed and her struggling had ceased, and when he pulled his mouth from hers now she made no effort to scream or cry out, just lay there with her eyes closed and her lips parted, waiting for whatever he wanted to do next.

She didn't have to wait long. He took one end of the soft, feminine bow that fastened her blouse at the top and pulled. He pulled till the knot just dissolved and fell away, exposing her smooth and feminine throat, and he caressed her there, then went to work on the buttons between her tits, working them deftly and exposing her chest, then the tops of her breasts.

Susan made one last effort, trying to free her wrist from his grasp, but he was much too strong and it was futile. The buttons parted one by one, revealing her bra and then her naked midriff, and all she could do was lie there with her heart in her throat and let it happen. She could feel his eyes on her, studying her in the eerie orange glow of the instrument panel but she kept her face turned to the side so she wouldn't see his face. She could feel the pulse in her throat beating in fear and growing excitement as undressed her, and then he parted the garment and she heard his low growl of desire.

"Mmm... Beautiful. Just fucking beautiful" 

She felt herself blush. She needed his approval. She needed him to find her beautiful. It was insane and without reason, but she desperately wanted to please him.

"You want this, don't you, Susan?" He began to kiss and pluck at her nipple with his lips through the sheer fabric of the bra. "You never would have climbed into this cab if you didn't want this, isn't that right? Isn't it?" 

She mewled, weak from pleasure. She was wet, sopping "No. No. I'm not like that. I don't do those kinds of things. I would never--"

"No," he said. "No, you just always drive around dressed like this in heels and stockings with that short little skirt on and a trunk full of sex toys. Yeah. I saw what was back there. You didn't even cover them up. I got a good look. You're into all this kinky stuff, aren't you? You like it."

"No! No! Those are for a party. For some girlfriends. They're jokes. Gags!" 

"Mmm hmm..." He lowered his lips to her b nipple and sucked again, sucked her right through the gossamer-thin bra and Susan felt it in her pussy--the tight clench, the ache. What was the use of trying to explain? What did it even matter anymore? He'd never believe her, and how could she deny that she'd come into his cab because she wanted him--not only wanted him, but wanted him to take her like this, taking control from her, using her.

He seemed to know this. He seemed to know just what she wanted, and he grabbed her bra and pulled it up over her breasts, then attacked them with a vengeance, sucking, licking, squeezing one while he devoured the other. Susan felt pleasure like fire rush through her veins. His need and passion were so intense, so overwhelming she could hardly breathe. 

He let go of her wrist and his right hand went back under her skirt, finding her sodden panties and pushing the crotch aside. He pushed his finger into her and she cried out, arching up against him, the violence of her reaction freeing her trapped arm. She grabbed his hair and tried to pull his mouth up to hers, but he remained stubbornly at her tits as his fingers worked in the swampy folds of her pussy.

"Please, " she whispered. "Please..." But even she didn't know what she was asking for, and he wasn't taking any orders anyway. He fingered her till she felt herself start to bear down and the looming orgasm and then he stopped.

Stopped. Removed his hands from her body and sat up, leaving her lost, alone, and bewildered. Her blouse was open, her bra pulled up and her naked breasts exposed and wet with his saliva. Her skirt was bunched up around her waist, and she was lying on the seat of his truck in the garish orange light of his dashboard, legs apart, ready for more and he stopped.

She heard the sound of his zipper opening and she knew what was coming and what he wanted her to do. Worse, she knew what would happen once she did it, too, and in her alarm she tried to push away from him, sliding herself on her back toward the door.

Mark grabbed her arm and pulled her back, pulled her upright so she was sitting on the seat pressed against him, her bare breast against his arm. She could see his cock, hard and angry, arching up in its full arousal, standing up from his spread jeans like an aroused cobra.

He held her arm like a vice. "You should never have climbed up here if you didn't mean to deliver, Susan. You should never have come up here at all. Now get down there and show me what you can do. Show me what a hot little cock-sucker you are and get me good and hard, baby. Good and hard."

Sitting up, she could see out of the truck again, and see the parking lot and the cars and other trucks, the people walking into the coffee shop, the truckers standing around joking. She felt exposed and visible, disheveled and half-naked and she tried to hide herself. She knew they couldn't see in, but still, it didn't feel like that, and she tried to cover herself with her arms, but Mark was having no part of that. He took a handful of her hair and pulled her down, his other hand holding his dick up like a weapon, aimed directly at her mouth.

Susan mewled weakly in protest but there was nothing she could do, and then the sticky velvet head of his dick was pressing against her lips and she could smell him, the scent of soap and denim and male sexual musk, the scent of virility. He slapped his heavy prick against her lips and she obediently opened her mouth, covered her teeth with her lips and took him inside. He exhaled a grunt of excitement and she felt him pushing her head down impatiently just as he lifted his hips and thrust it into her. It slid into her mouth and filled her: hot, thick, and pulsing with life, and she heard him groan in animal pleasure as she sank down on his thick hardness.

She'd always prided herself on her oral skills and her talent to make a man moan and beg whenever she deigned to favor someone with a blow job. She loved doing it. She loved the feeling of controlling him from her knees. But she was also aware of her lethal weakness for sucking cock and what it could sometimes do to her: turn her into a kind of mindless sexual animal, a slave to the very pleasure she gave. She knew it was going to happen with Mark, and as soon as he entered her mouth she wanted to suck, wanted to stroke, wanted to fill her mouth with him, her throat, her very being. This time there'd be no finesse or clever technique or teasing, just the mindless hunger of having a man's big prick filling her mouth as she sucked and slavered over him. Her lips were suddenly wildly sensitive, and she loved the way he grabbed her head and used her, fucking his hard prick up into her lax and accepting mouth, pushing her hair out of the way so he could see her getting fucked.

"Oh yeah, bitch!" he moaned. "Oh yeah! Get it Susan! Eat that fucking cock!" 

She sucked, she slobbered, she pushing her head onto him and pumped, pausing only to slurp up the streams of saliva that poured from her mouth and down his shaft--unnatural amounts, caused not just by the friction of his cock, but by her own enhanced salivation. She was drooling from the taste of him. She couldn't help it. 

"Mmmmph!!! Unnngh!!! Nnnnhhh!" She sucked him, lost in the sheer physical pleasure of having him fucking her mouth and using her, caring nothing for her pride or her image or even what he might think of her. She heard her own guttural moans and sounds of obsequious sucking, and when her neck began to ache or her lips grew tired, she just held her head still and opened her mouth and let him use her, let him thrust his angry cock into her throat and make her choke and gag. 

"Oh holy fuck!" he moaned. "You're going to make me cum, baby! You're getting me close!"

But he wasn't ready to give it to her yet, and he dug both hands into her hair and pried her off. His prick popped out of her mouth slimed with spittle and mucus and twitching with pre-orgasmic spasms, fiery red and engorged with blood. Mark quickly grabbed hid prick and choked down, squeezing to stop his immanent ejaculation and making Susan whine with hunger and frustration. 




Truck Stop



She wanted it. She wanted his thick musky seed in her mouth and he was denying her, and when all his squeezing and clenching couldn't stop a big wad of watery pre-cum from rolling down the angry purple head, Susan pounced on it and scooped it up with a single swipe of her tongue. He was painfully sensitive and reacted instinctively, shielding his cock and pushing her away, sending her sliding off the seat and onto the floor of the cab.

But she wasn't done, hadn't had enough of him, and if he wouldn't let her have his cock, she would find some other way of satisfying her oral need. Looking up, she saw his big balls hanging from the fly of his jeans like some over ripe tropical fruit and immediately ducked her head to come up at them from below, licking and kissing and running her soft, wet lips over them.

"Oh, Holy Jesus!" he moaned and she knew she was shocking him. She was shocking herself too but she didn't care. She slurped and sucked gently at his potent, cum-filled balls, and when he took his hand from his cock, Susan claimed that too, grabbing it in her tiny fist and starting to pump him, working the loose skin up and down the steely shaft.

His cock had thrilled her, but the demeaning lewdness of kneeling on the floor of the truck and licking and mouthing his balls was something else altogether. She'd never done this to man, and she loved the way he moaned and shuddered, she loved the servile way she had to crane her neck and reach for him with her tongue and lips, slave-like, yearning. It was worship, like prostrating herself before his masculinity, and she would have been content to stay there all night, paying homage to the essence of his maleness.

But Mark had other ideas, and he grabbed her by the upper arms and pulled her up off the floor, lifted her up, and broke the oral spell that held her in thrall. For a moment she was herself again, and her eyes went wide with alarm over what she was doing and what she'd let herself become. It was a dream--some incredibly lurid and intense, detailed dream. She didn't do these sorts of things. She didn't fuck strangers in the cabs of their trucks or suck their balls or act like a cock-starved slut, and she was horrified at what she was doing and where she found herself.

"Wait!" she cried. "Wait!" but he already had his hand under her skirt and had slipped his fingers between her and the crotch of her panties. He pulled--hard--and then pulled again, and the fabric parted. He yanked again, an urgent, impatient tug, and she felt the thin material rip and start to come away. 

She feared his violence even as it thrilled her, but it looked like the panties wouldn't come loose. With an angry growl he laid her face down over his lap so she was jammed against him and the wheel, threw her skirt up, and yanked them unceremoniously off her body.

"Wait! Please!"

She realized she was in the vulnerable, ass-up spanking position, laid over his knees, her bottom naked under his hand, and she reached back to protect herself. The idea of being spanked was just too much, too humiliating, even after all she'd done and the mindless excitement she'd felt, but the temptation for him was too great, her buttocks too perfect, flawless and exposed, and he captured her wrists in one hand and pushed them out of the way. He drew his hand back and she steeled herself for what was coming.

The slap of his hand on her ass was amazingly loud in the truck, and immediately she felt the sharp sting and burn. Then another, and another, and Susan stopped struggling as she felt the heat start to sink into her pussy and radiate through her body.

It wasn't the pain. It was the indignity and helplessness that got her, the sheer arrogance and air of superiority. He was depersonalizing her, turning her into a child or a little girl, a sexual plaything, and as the sting of his slaps sunk into her pussy and caused her muscles to clench and her clit to throb, her will to resist just dissolved. Her will and her sense of autonomy just evaporated, and she became his fuck toy, his pussy, his eager slut. She no longer wanted to be anything else.

Five, six spanks. That's all it took, and then Mark slid over and pulled her with to the center of the seat, away from the confining wheel. Grabbing her by the arms again, he lifted her up easily and held her there till she realized what he wanted. He wanted her to straddle him, to spread her legs around him so she could sink down on his cock and ride him, and the thought filled her with consuming heat, the fire blazing within her again. 

He handled her so easily, like a doll, a creature of light and air, lifting her up and holding her by the arms as he kissed her and nuzzled her breasts and she arranged her legs around him. Her knees touched the cool leather of the seat on either side of his thighs, then her pussy made contact with the velvety head of his cock and she moaned, wiggling her hips back and forth to work the head of his cock into her slick folds. He held her up, not letting her get any closer until she groaned n frustration. She felt small and frail, a little girl in his big truck--Goldilocks alone with papa Bear--but she was ready for him. So ready for him.

"I believe you," he said as he held her poised on the tip of his cock. "I know you don't do this kind of thing and probably never have. I can tell. But you're in here with me now, Susan, and I need you to fuck me. I need you to be a whore for me: the hottest, sluttiest, piece of ass I've ever had. Can you do that, baby? Can you do it?"

His words thrilled her with their lewdness, and she felt the rush of goose bumps cover her arms and shoulders.

"Oh yes," she said. "Yes. Just do it. Make me do it."

He began to lower her and she felt herself stretch and spread around his invading stalk. Then he let go of her arms and gripped her ass and Susan was suddenly in charge of fucking him and taking him inside. Her head spun with lewd excitement.

"Oh! Oh! Ohhhhhh!"

He was huge and hard and he split her painfully, but the pain was just what she wanted, just perfect, the price of her pleasure. He was no longer supporting her and she took her weight on her thighs, flexing them to slow her descent and his tight, invasive entrance into her pussy. She grabbed the straps of his tank top and pulled his mouth to hers, kissing him hard as she used her leverage to prolong the delicious agony of his invasion of her body, trying to tell him with her sucking mouth and eager tongue what he was making her feel, and loving his low groans and growls and the way his fingers clawed at her naked ass, trying to force her down.

She was lubricating so much it felt like her pussy was melting, and she knew her juices were running down his shaft in an obscene display of need, but she loved this sudden, wicked sense of control she had now, doling out his pleasure and making him moan and gasp as she sunk down onto his prick, and she knew she'd better enjoy it while she could, because he wouldn't stand for it for long.

Sure enough, when she was still only half-ready, he thrust up impatiently into her, burying his cock to the hilt and making her break their kiss to sob. She was filled with him, packed with him, hurting with this beautiful pain. She gasped, leaning her forehead against his and giving herself over to the sensation of having his hard cock inside her. She'd never felt herself so totally fucked, so full of a man, so completely consumed by him.

It was the lewdness of it, the thrill of fucking this stranger in this deserted truck stop in the middle of nowhere. It was the night and the darkness, the loneliness and tension of her drive, the knowledge that she was no one going nowhere and so had nothing to lose: no pride, no dignity, no image to maintain and protect.

It was all these and more, and it hardly mattered now and she couldn't be bothered with it, not when she was kneeling over him with his big thick cock stuffed into her pussy, her blouse open and bra pulled down, nipples hard and painfully erect, and Mark slumped down beneath her pressing her down on his thick tool as he pushed it up inside of her. He stared up at her with eyes that glowed like coals in the lurid orange light of the dashboard. His chest and shoulders were already sheened with a thin film of fuck-sweat. The inside of the can already smelled of deep, close, sex.

"Pull your skirt up," he growled. "Hold it up. I want to see my cock going into you."

Susan groaned at the dirtiness of it, the raw carnality, but she took her skirt and pulled it up and held it over her stomach. She watched his eyes flick down to where she knew she was stretched in a tight ring around him, and she thrilled to the salacious leer she saw spreading across his face. He reached up and slid her blouse down her arms, exposing her bare shoulders. He took her breasts in his hands and found her nipples and teased them before he took them between his fingers and slowly, slowly began to pinch, increasing the pressure till Susan gasped and felt her pussy spasm on him in involuntary reflex. 

Mark groaned. "Now fuck me, baby. Fuck me! Ride that hard cock and get me off." 

She didn't need to be told. She rose up and felt the sweet suck of his cock leaving her, then pushed back down, filling herself again, grinding to rub her throbbing clit against his shaft. She knew she wasn't visible from outside the truck--or at least she thought so--but it was hard not to think that anyone walking by couldn't see in and see her as she began to move up and down, couldn't see her naked back with her good ivory blouse hanging off it like a garland as she pumped herself up and down on his prick, holding her skirt up so he could watch himself fucking her. It was hard to believe they couldn't hear the lewd, wet squishing sound of her pussy moving on him, sounds as primal and obscene as the hot, dirty pleasure she took from this crude and hungry fucking.

Mark moaned, sighed, and grunted with pleasure as she found her rhythm and began working herself off on his cock, using him with hot and shameless excitement, starving to feel him spurt his hot release into her famished pussy. He still held onto her nipples, and the jouncing of her tits as she bounced on him made his fingers tug salaciously at her breasts, each stab of pleasure-pain exploding like a little bomb in her pussy.

She didn't care. It was good; it was all so fucking good that she didn't care about the people or the pain or what he might think of her or anything else. Never even in her dreams had she imagined sex could feel like this, so deep and profound, so absolutely perfect, and all she wanted was to be the best piece of ass he'd ever known, to just stun him with how good she was, as if with Mark she could make up to all the men she'd used and neglected, teased and denied. It was time to redeem herself, so she worked. She worked, even as her muscles began to feel weak and watery and her body started trembling with intense, orgasmic overload.

"Oh! Oh! Oh God! Oh yes! Oh God yessss!" Her voice trailed off into a deep, soulful moan as suddenly her thighs gave out and would no longer support her and she fell shuddering against his chest.

Mark didn't miss a beat, and with one hand on her ass and the other behind her neck he deftly flipped them over so she was on her back with Mark between her legs, pushing back into her and making her squeal.

He pushed her knees up against her shoulders and fucked her hard, deep, and with brutal passion, the full length of his cock sliding in and out of her like a piston in its sleeve, faster and harder than she could have achieved through riding him, and stealing her breath away through the searing friction. She was going to cum. She knew it, and she knew she couldn't stop it, and she grasped at him, her mouth gaping as she tried to tell him. She wanted to tell him she was close, that she was going to cum from his fucking her, that no one had ever made her cum like this, that it was going to be shattering and she would have to scream, but she couldn't say anything, couldn't draw a breath. She could only lie there with her mouth agape and eyes closed tight as his big log sluiced in and out of her and he drove her to a place of no return.

"Oh god!" he cried hoarsely. "I'm cumming! I'm going to cum! Can't hold it, baby! Can't! Gonna shoot it in you, Susan! Gonna shoot..."

But she was already drowning in the rushing torrent of orgasm, of overwhelming pleasure and total surrender. She was flying, exploding, and yet thoroughly grounded and crushed into the present by Mark's relentless fucking and his furious cries as he throbbed inside her and began to spit hot searing waves of cum into her pussy, intense jets she felt as liquid fire splattering into her secret soul.

He fucked her as she came. He fucked her as her pussy began milking his cock with peristaltic spasms of her deep, autonomic muscles, and he ejaculated into her again and again, sobbing against her breasts. He fucked her as she soared on the gales of orgasm, and fucked her as she started to come down, his deflating but insistent cock sliding in and out on a slippery bed of his own seed as if he never wanted to stop. 

He fucked her until she felt consciousness start to slip away from her, till everything was replaced by a warm, relaxed ecstasy that seemed to stretch on forever, like a dark, endless highway into the dark, endless night.



Truck Stop Blonde



I was on my way back home after a great weekend of riding, drinking and shooting when I pulled in to a truck stop for some gas and a quick bite to get me the next 100 miles or so. 

While re-arranging a things on the bike and taking a few pictures for kicks I see this blonde woman in her mid to late 40's walking from the line of parked trucks towards the all in one type truck stop and as she gets closer I can see that her yellow tank top is the only things she's wearing up top. Her nice big breasts are moving all over the place and her nipples are clearly visible which immediately caused me to try not to stare but also cause my cock to swell a bit. 

She sees me kind of looking and must realize what I'm looking at because before she gets to the door she decides to go drop something into the garbage but as she does, she bends over stretching her tight white shorts. 

At this point, I'm not trying to pretend I'm not staring and decide to take a risk just to see what happens. In my mind, all I can think about are the stories of truck stop hookers and how much I want to set her tits free for me to play with. 

After a brief smile, I walk towards her letting the bulge in my pants lead, and introduced myself. 

Hello, I'm Jack and I'm in town for a little while. Would you be able to help me out with some entertainment recommendations. 

She said her name was Rhonda and asked what kind of entertainment I was into as her eyes lowered to my crotch as we shook hands. 

So far, so good. With nothing to lose it was time to see how this would play out.

Well, what I could really use is some kind of adult theater, but I doubt they have anything like that around here. 

I moved my eyes back to her chest and could see her nipples had gotten even harder. 

Before she could say anything I added, since that's probably out, I really enjoy watching a good show, and sure wouldn't mind if it was an interactive type show with audience participation. 

She blushed and looked back down again at the tent in my pants, so I leaned in and whispered in her ear, I have a big budget to blow on the right kind of show. 

See seemed lost in thought before she replied that she was just about to take a shower but she might be able to help out. I should wait for her to come out of the shower and then give her a few minutes to discuss the situation with her man. 

If he was game, she would wave me over to the big blue rig with a full sleeper cab. 

After she was done in the shower she came out and asked just what my entertainment budget was. 

I told her I could spend a few hundred for the right type of show. 

Off, she went across the parking lot to the truck swaying her hips the entire way for my enjoyment. 

Maybe about 10 minutes later, she waives me over towards the truck so I walk towards the place half suspecting it's going to be a set up of some kind but not worried since I am capable of taking care of myself. 

I climb into the cab and she introduces me to her man Tony an average size guy with average looks who seems to be the kind of guy that could use the extra money as much as anything.

She says she discussed it with him and if I have the cash, she'll put on a show for me and I can tell her what kind of show I'd like to see. I took out the video camera and set it up so I could watch the action later. 

Okay, first of all Rhonda, take off your top so I can see those beautiful distracting tits of yours. I've had a hard on for almost an hour thinking about them. 

I'm not normally quite this forward but it is turning into a role play situation for me and I want to push it as far as I can. 

She removes her top and I get a nice good look and start asking if they are sensitive, if she likes to have them played with and if Tony ever gives her a nice titty fucking, because I would do all of those things. 

She looks over at Tony and seems a little flustered as she says she loves them to be grabbed and licked and having her nipples sucked and played with really turns her on. 

I tell her to go ahead and lick her own nipple for me and play with them for me. Again with the look to Tony as if for approval, he nods and she starts playing with her tits, licking and biting her own nipples. 

I ask her if she's getting wet and she nods so I tell her she should take her shorts off so I can see if her pussy is as nice as her hot tits. Do you have any toys around that you would like to play with right now? 

She moves over to a drawer and pulls out a pretty standard rabbit type vibrator and says it is her favorite. 

Well Rhonda, why don't you suck on it for me before you rub it on your wet pussy? This time she doesn't look at Tony and just starts following my orders. 

I look over and can see that Tony seems to be shifting around as his now naked woman is slowly rubbing her pussy in front of a total stranger. 

Rhonda, do you like having someone finger you while they flick your clit with their tongue? 

She's starting to make some moaning noises and nods again. Well Tony, why don't you get over there and give her a hand, and a tongue, show me how you do it for her. 

He looked a little uncomfortable but I knew he was too horny to say no at this point so he takes his clothes of and moves towards her sliding between her opening legs and begins to work her clit over as her hips buck while she's looking at me.

Rhonda, your putting on a really nice show but to really enjoy it fully, I think I should take my pants off, do you want to take them off for me? 

Yes, she moaned as her toy and her man were busy pleasuring her. 

I move towards her so she can get at my belt and let her take my pants down revealing tightly stretched underwear that she pulled down next, letting my massive erection spring free almost hitting her in the face. 

I could tell she was about to go over the edge and told her to cum as loud as she wanted. 

Her eyes locked on my cock as I stroked it back and forth watching her get off. 

Rhonda, how good are you at sucking cock, do you swallow? 

She says she's really good at sucking cock but doesn't do it to Tony very often because he doesn't fill her mouth the way she likes. 

Well, Tony did an okay job getting you off, so why don't you go ahead and suck his cock. 

I was setting this up to go to the next step guessing that he was about ready to blow as soon as he put it in her mouth, and that he was probably not a multiple cummer, like I am. Just as I suspected, after about one minute with his average sized dick in her mouth, he starts grunting and she swallows it all and he pulls his shrinking dick out. While he crawls over to the corner, I make my next move. 

Rhonda, it looks like Tony's all done, but you know I haven't cum yet and after watching you two I'd sure like to do a comparison, my cock versus Tony's cock. You keep staring at it like you want it so why not? 

She said we had only agreed to a show and hadn't agreed to anything more than that, looking at Tony while her hands massaged her breasts, and licking her lips. 

Rhonda, I'm not worried about Tony, I'll put in another hundred if I can play with your tits while you jerk me off. 

Before getting an answer, I moved towards her crawling between her open legs knowing that as I circled my tongue over her breasts, neck and nipples while I used my big hands to squeeze them, that she would also be feeling the tip of my cock grind against her. 

I whispered in her ear, while nibbling on it, Rhonda, do you want to feel this big thick cock fill your mouth? Do you want to feel these big strong fingers inside you while I tongue you ten times better than what I just saw? Do you want to ride this dick until I cum? 

Oh yes, yes I want it so bad. 

Rhonda, I'm afraid I just have no choice but to slide this cock between your tits and fuck them, but all I have for lube is my pre-cum, maybe you could get it wet a little bit first. 

Tony says, Hey man that's not the deal. 

Look Tony, your woman wants this cock and yours isn't even working right now, so until you can step up, I'm going to do what she wants. 

She laid back and I moved up rubbing my tip on her tits, but didn't stop and moved up higher rubbing it on her lips before she opened her mouth letting me slide it in and out before she started moving her head up and down on her own. 

I was getting close but didn't want to cum just yet so I pulled it out and told her to slowly lick my balls. 

Rhonda, did that fill your mouth like you wanted? Hold your tits together for me baby, I'm going to fuck them, and while I'm fucking them, I'm going to finger you, how many of these fingers do you want? 

My cock pushed between her tits, back and forth while she started sucking my fingers getting them wet before I reached back and first pushed in one, then two, then three and started to push them in and out, curling them inside of her, feeling her get soaking wet and start to moan as I thrust back and forth feeling my balls tighten. Rhonda, your pussy is clamping my fingers, and your pussy is dripping, are you cumming on my fingers? 

Yessssss, ohhhh, fuck. 

Rhonda, louder, I want all those dirty truckers to hear you so they know what's going on in here. 

OHHHHH GOD FUCK I'M CUMMING! 

That's it baby, now back to my needs. I pulled my cock from between her tits and jerked it aiming right at her face, letting a huge load fly from my dick right over her face, then another one splattering on her tits, back and forth until I there was just a string of cum connecting my cock to her tits. 

Rhonda, you have quite the mess to clean up, here why don't you start by making sure my cock is empty with your mouth?

Her breathing was ragged and she started licking my cum off of her tits as I wiped some of it off with my dick and having her lick it off. 

Rhonda, you're doing great and I appreciate the entertainment so far, but I'm not quite done yet. I'm going to want to see you masturbate for me and when you cum, cum loud, okay baby? 

Once again she started moving her hands over her body pinching and pulling her nipples, slowly circling her clit, rocking her hips back and forth. 

Rhonda, what are you thinking of that's getting you this worked up? 

I'm thinking of fucking that huge cock you have. 

Oh yeah, how would you like me to fuck you? 

I want you to bend me over and fuck me hard from behind while Tony watches. 

Okay Rhonda, as soon as I get a nice taste of that pussy of yours. 

I laid down letting her straddle my face and told her to fuck my face as she started grinding against my tongue as I reached up and played with her spunk covered tits. Her hips started twitching faster as she moaned louder and louder, her hands grabbing mine forcing them harder into her tits while I went back and forth between flicking my tongue over her clit and using it like a mini cock to push inside her pussy. 

She made on last thrust and she squirted all over before screaming out and falling sideways spasming uncontrollably. 

Rhonda, did you like that, having your pussy devoured by someone that loves it? 

She mumbled something but was still twitching on the bed. 

Rhonda, now you're going to get what you really wanted, filled with my huge thick cock, fucked like a slut while your limp man can only watch. 

I slapped her ass, I grabbed her legs and helped her roll over before pulling on her hips moving them up and back.

She was already wet from the tongue fucking she had just received and I wasn't going to let her get any rest. I pressed the tip against her pussy sliding it along her slit, slapping it against her pussy lips a few times. 

Rhonda, this is what you want isn't it? You want to be fucked hard and rough, you're a total slut that loves to tease and turn men hoping they will fuck you. Are you my little slut? 

Yes she blurted out as I jammed my cock into her in one hard stroke, pulling her hair back burying myself up to my balls. 

She moaned out loud and I slapped her ass again, ramming into her just as hard, pulling one of her hands back placing it between her legs. 

Rhonda, you finger your clit while I fuck you. 

Now I picked up the pace pulling back on her hips as I fucked her as hard as my 6'5" 250lb frame could, her moans becoming louder and more unintelligible.

Rhonda, who's pussy is this? 

She started to say To... so I pulled all the way out and slammed forward stopping her and asked her again. 

She picked her head up to see Tony looking pissed in corner not hard and she yelled out "Your pussy, this is your pussy, fuck me, fuck me baby, fuuuuuuuck." 

Her fingers were working her clit and as she cried out, I could feel her pussy clamp down on my cock so I pulled her hand back to cup my balls as I dumped load after load of cum into her pussy. 

I pulled my dick out and watched as my cum dripped out of her pink hole as she slowed her repeating of oh my god, oh my god. 

Rhonda, thanks for the show now I have to go, if I ever run into you again, I'm fucking you senseless. 

I put my clothes back on, grabbed my camera and tossed all the cash on her sweaty shaking body and told Tony it was his turn to clean up before I left.



Truck Stop Fuck



During the summer of '82 I just turned 20 and lived right by the toll-way truck stop in a suburb of Chicago. I would frequent the truck stop restrooms and the drivers in their trucks on a fairly regular basis in the evenings when I was horny and in need of some cock.

One warm summer evening I dressed in a pair of red flimsy running shorts, the kind that had just a pouch hanging in the front for your cock & balls with sides cut up to the waist, a white mesh sleeveless t-shirt and a pair of flip-flops. I was a good looking, tall (6'3"), slim young man, brown wavy hair, blue eyes with a hot firm bubble butt that the shorts showed off to full advantage and a 7.5" cut cock. 

I had been in the truck stop restroom eagerly sucking the many cocks coming through the glory hole for about 45 minutes when this thick uncut cock that looked to be about 8.5" to 9" long came through the glory hole to my right. I started licking the head and pushing the foreskin back with my tongue and then started to swallow the whole cock. I've always been a very accomplished cock sucker. The trucker on the other side asked in a low voice if I would meet him back in his truck and of course I said yes. He told me to wait about 5 minutes and then come out to the black truck parked in the last stall to the left and to just open the passenger door and climb in.

So, about 6 minutes later I was climbing up the truck and opening the door. The driver gave me a once over and smiled and said he liked the way I was dressed and that I looked like the 'hot truck stop cock whore' that all the truckers were talking about. I took that as a compliment and got a good look at him as well and what a stud he was. About 38 give or take a year with a dark five-o-clock shadow on his tanned face and very dark eyes and thick dark hair pulled back into a short pony tail. His shirt was open half way down and a thick hairy chest was visible. The bulge in his snug jeans was almost obscene. He reached over and pulled my head down toward that huge basket and told me to get his cock out and get back to sucking it. It took me a few minutes to get his jeans open and since he had no underwear his thick hose came into view surrounded by a mass of dark curly hair. I was in cock suckers heaven as I continued to pull his jeans down his muscular thighs so that his cock began to rise up and his egg sized balls were free. I began to suck on that big uncut tool as it began to harden and lengthen in my mouth as I played with his hot nuts with my right hand. He indeed was 9".

As I was sucking and deep throating his entire 9" cock, his left hand was on my head and he slid his right hand down my back and into my flimsy shorts and began to feel my firm round ass and then slipped his middle finger right up my steaming hole and then let out a laugh as he said "you already lubed your hole hoping you'd get fucked tonight, right?" I could only nod my head yes as I would not take his cock out of my mouth. He then stuck two of his large fingers up my ass and I began moaning around his cock. He told me to get off his cock and up into the bed area and take off what little I had on. I was up on the bed and naked in a second. He was laughing and looking over my firm lean body and rock hard cock as he was removing his cloths. Once he was naked it was my turn to gasp at the muscled, tanned, hairy and hung stud that was about to fuck my brains out. 

He threw my legs over his shoulders and pushed the big head of his cock up and into my slick hole as I just let out "ohhhh, yeahhh, fuck meeeee and fuck me he did. He just slammed his thick 9" right up my ass until I could feel his big balls slapping my ass cheeks. It almost took my breath away yet still I was hard as a rock. He then pulled out to the head and rammed it back up my hole and then started to pile drive me. I was moaning and groaning like the cock whore he said that I was. He kept telling my how he loved my ass and that it was so tight and hot and he liked seeing my hard dick and knowing that I was enjoying his hot fuck. He fucked my brains out for about a good 15 minutes and then yelled that he was getting ready to cum and I was saying "yes, cum in me and fuck the cum out of me". I shot my load all over my chest and some went right into my mouth as he moaned like a caveman and begin to fill my ass with so much cum that it was running out my fucked out hole.

As his cock softened inside me he pulled out and rolled over onto his side and rubbed my cum into my chest. I got dressed with dried cum still on my chest and all over my ass and hole while he lay there naked and told me he would be coming back through Chicago in a week and could I meet him back here then. I of course said yes and left the cab and headed for the access back road that led sown to the street where I lived. 

I was so exhausted that I decided to stop and take a seat on the guard rail that ran alongside the access road. I wanted to catch my breath and relish the hot fuck I had just received.

I then noticed the lights of a car coming up the access road and as it got a bit closer I noticed that it was a squad car. I was not to worried until the squad car stopped right by me and the two cops inside where looking out the window at me. One cop asked what I was doing out there and I said that I was just out for a little fresh air and enjoying the summer evening. The cop on the passenger side had a big smile on his face and got out of the car as the driver put the car in park and got out as well. I thought oh fuck what do they want?

But that's another story...