Last time, in Trickstop I had just finished taking a leak when I looked up at the rig I was standing near and . . . “saw a naked leg slung across the rig’s wheel. Another naked leg was propped against the passenger headrest and the window was open. A hand reached up and waved at me from the driver’s side so I walked over, climbed up and saw a hairy, bearded guy hunkered down sideways in the driver’s seat wearing nothing but a ball cap and a smile.”
He wasn’t bad looking at all. He sported the usual round tum of a trucker but had lean thighs and calves. His shoulders were wide and had a lightly muscled silhouette. No man t*** but not much pecs either. We all like to fantasize about hot truckers with athletic builds and washboard stomachs but the fact of the matter is that driving a truck is as sedentary as working in any office job. The result is soft middles even on slim guys. Like reading tree rings, you can tell how long a guy has been trucking by the roundness of his belly. Flat stomachs haven’t been driving long, the rounder the belly, the more experience on the road. This guy was about ten years on the road, I guessed.
He was certainly ballsy. Naked as a jaybird, stretched out in the front of his cab with two different streetlights pouring in through the windows, he sure wasn’t hiding anything. I had a direct view into his crotch what with his left leg draped over his steering wheel and his right foot propped against the passenger seat. Heavy balls hung low and a slender, cut hose arced down over them. “What’s up, buddy?”.
“Just out lookin’ for some d***.”
“Yeah? What would you do with one if you found it?”
“S*** it and drink the c**.”
He reached for his d*** and watched me watch him stretch and flop it around a bit. “C’mon in.”
The inside lights came on as I opened the door and another rig pulled slowly by, its driver shirtless and grinning. He must have seen my driver slowly jacking in the big door mirror as he pulled up. I noticed quite a bit more about my trick. He had friendly green eyes in a fair complexion with dark curly hair, a perfectly groomed van dyke and was more muscular than he looked in the cold, blue light of mercury vapor. He was also utterly hairless from his navel to his knees. The lights went out when I slammed the door. “You’re a gutsy m***********, you know that, don’t you?” He looked truly surprised.
“How so?”
“Layin’ up here nekkid where anybody could see, not even bypassing the inside lights. That last rig driver could see you strokin’ when I was getting in.”
He shrugged, “Drivers don’t report each other for s*** like that. I could be standing outside naked f****** anybody or anything and no driver would complain. He might not like it, but he wouldn’t try to get me in trouble over it.”
His d*** wasn’t gettin’ any longer but was thickening and his balls had pulled up a bit too. I reached out for them but he pushed my hand away. “Look, I got some real specific tastes.”
Now, there’s not much I won’t do with a guy but I’ve got few rules and they are: No s***, no blood, no marks that last more than 12 hours and no tying me up so I can’t get myself loose in a hurry. I quoted these rules and asked, “Sound fair to you?”
He nodded, “Add no piss to that list and I gotcha covered.” He reached down and pulled his jewel collection up, completely covering everything with his cupped hands. There was just shining clean taint and virginal a******. “How are you with instructions?”
I saluted him stiffly, “You give the orders and I follow them to the letter, sir!” He seemed to like that.
“You, um, you like dirty talk?”
“Very much. The nastier and louder, the better I like it.”
“Anything in particular you like to hear?”
I shrugged, “Most anything, really, especially if it’s creative. Moaning, groaning, name calling – filthy talk makes me hot and I really dig being called ‘cocksucker’ when I’m servicing a hot guy.”
He nodded and I continued. “Of course, the most important thing is what fires you up. Some guys like to call me ‘b****’ or ‘w****’ – I like that too – and some just make noises – or not.”
He laughed, “How about ‘c***’?”
“My third favorite right after ‘f*****’.
“Ok, c***, first, I don’t want to be sucked off. I want to be licked. Second, you will do everything I tell you to in slow motion or you won’t be rewarded with my c** and third, you’d better turn out to be exactly the sort of f***** cocksucker I pulled off the road for or you might not even get my d*** in your mouth.”
I said quietly, “Yessir, anything sir. You just tell me what you want done, sir, and I’ll do it for you.”
“I want you to lick my a******. I don’t want you to touch my body with anything but your tongue. You will start at the top of my shitcrack and lick slowly up to just behind my nutsack.”
I did exactly that. Touching him with my tongue only turned out to be easy. He had no b*** to speak of. With his thighs up and spread, his d********** hole was as exposed as a politician caught b** f****** a five year old. In fact, I bet if you placed the edge of a ruler on his hole, the ends wouldn’t even touch what little b*** cheek he had. As I neared his hairless scrotum, I was reminded of doing this sort of thing with a buddy of mine when we were 12, before either of us had any hair or c**. There wasn’t even any stubble on this guy. By the time I was at the top of his taint, his d*** was fully hard and he held it loosely with thumb and fingers only stroking occasionally. He pulled his foreskin up, lifting his balls away from me and denying me the right to sniff or lick them. I could feel his body tremble slightly. “Was that adequate, sir?”
He took a deep breath. “More than adequate, c***. It was exactly per my instructions.” He slowly stroked his d*** up and down causing his sac to bob up and down his perineum. “In fact, you did such a good job, I’m going to grant you a boon.” He pushed his d*** down with a thumb until it pointed directly between my eyes. “You may kiss my c*** head, f*****, but do NOT PUT IT IN YOUR MOUTH!”
Leaning forward and locking my eyes on his, I pursed my lips and gave the tip of his c*** a loud, wet smack. He smiled, “Somebody trained you pretty good queer boy.”
I nodded, “Yes ,sir. Sir, would it be ok if I kissed your p**** again, just like I just did, sir?”
He scowled, “Ok, but . . . stop calling me ‘sir’. I don’t think I like it.”
“Ok, buddy.” and I gave his c*** another loud, wet kiss.
“Ok, now, gently hold my d*** head in your lips.” I wrapped them gently around his d*** just past the glans ridge. I like this grip because it covers the head, and from my trick’s perspective, makes it look longer. You can see the effect in any p*** photo – a d*** with the head just barely buried in a hole looks longer than the same d*** with the glans showing. A trick of the mind, if you can’t see the glans, you don’t know where up in that hole that the d*** actually stops.
“Slowly work down the shaft as far as you want.”
He seemed fascinated with watching me so I kept my eyes locked on his as much as possible. His d*** was dry but my mouth was watering so using my tongue like a spoon, I basted my spit over the top of his d***, used the tip to push the spit past my lips and went into a slow dive carefully keeping that advance wave of my saliva greasing my lips against his tightly stretched d*** skin. This had the effect of my tongue constantly fluttering all ’round his thickening shaft and soon it was twitching and and his b*** was squirming like he had ants in his pants. He couldn’t seem to close his eyes or look away so I winked, slipped back a bit to let him see his spit polished meat shining in the lights before moving back down towards the root end again. I could see his gaze flickering back and forth between his d*** vanishing into the circle of my lips and my eyes lit up by the mercury vapor light streaming over his shoulder.
Before I got to the end of his shaft, the head bumped the back of my mouth. Closing off my windpipe I pushed. Rubbery and tipped slightly down, his tapered c*** head slipped into my throat. He locked both hands behind my head and together we pulled/pushed to force another two inches at least, down my hungry throat.
He moaned and grunted, grinding his hips as if trying desperately to find yet one more inch to cram down my swollen neck. I felt like a ten dollar crack w**** hiding behind an alleyway dumpster being coarsely used by guys who otherwise wouldn’t have given her the time of day. I heard him yell, “S***!” and he shoved me away. He gripped his c*** with his fist squeezing it really tightly it looked like. He was panting and his balls had vanished but as his breathing slowed, he relaxed his grip, his balls sagged back down and he finally opened his eyes. “I need a break. You smoke?” I nodded. “Ok, put my d*** back in your mouth but don’t do anything. Just hold it there.”
He worked his feet onto the floor, stood up, stepped into the sleeper being careful to keep his c*** in my mouth and rummaged around in a drawer. He came up with a fresh pack of smokes. After laying back down and wrapping his legs around my shoulders again, he packed down the tobacco, opened the pack and took one out. Fishing on the floor he came up with his jeans and dug a lighter out of the pocket. He lit it, hit it, exhaled a lungful and passed it to me. Instead of taking it, I let go my mouth grip, using a crooked finger to hold his d*** down and deliberately let a glob of spit slide down my chin and neck. He stared at it sliding down then watched me drag smoke from the filter tip held between his fingers . He pursed his lips in a silent whistle, his brow creasing with interest.
I inhaled, locked his c*** head back in my mouth and exhaled thick smoke through my nose to form a cloud around his groin. He hit the now sloppy wet cig and offered it to me again. There’s something about a dude sharing a smoke with with me while I s*** his c*** that really cranks me up so I repeated my performance and this time he smiled. “You’re one disgusting perv, you know that?” His eyes twinkled above a cat-ate-the-canary grin as he hit the spittle soaked dog end again. “I don’t know which one of us is more disgusting though.” He passed it back to me. This time I took it, sat up and hit it deeply before handing it back. “There’s the queer who climbs up into a Freightliner and licks a****** and s**** d*** on a trucker whose name he doesn’t even know, and then there’s the trucker who invites queers he doesn’t know to climb up in his truck to lick his a****** and s*** his d***.”
I took the smoke from him and got the last hit before tossing it out the window. “I think in terms of disgusting, the lickER has an edge over the lickEE.” He roared out a gut deep belly laugh and fell back into his seat. “Ok, you win.” He lit another smoke, lifted his legs back up and settled back in for another round. “I think this time I’m just going to let you . . . do what you do. Just have fun, show me what you got.” I hoped he was ready.
Starting with some slow licking like before, I added a cat’s tongue trick I learned back in high school from my tenth grade track coach – the guy who, more than any other, taught me mastery in cocksucking during those vivid years of high school. You fold your tongue back over itself and scrub really hard. This lifts up the taste buds and pushes out the moisture thereby drying the tongue and making it very rough. I gave his shitter a couple light strokes then a bit more pressure and scrubbed at it a bit. He went back to moaning and squirming again. “Oh, yeah! THAT’S what I’m talking about!” I winked at him. He grinned back, “Do whatever that was again, cocksucker!” So I did it again. He groaned, “GoDAYAM! I wish I could get a b**** to do s*** like that!” I was just as glad that he couldn’t.
I kissed his now bright pink crap hole and noticed lights over his shoulder. It was another rig pulling in slowly, looking for a parking spot. Mr Lickmyass heard it too. Instead of pushing me down or trying to sink down into his seat, he flipped on his dome light, pulled my head up and said, “S*** my d***. Pump on it so he can see you in the mirror.”
At the top of my upstroke I could see the other truck slowly pulling up. He stopped dead even with us. Looking at him over my trick’s shoulder I saw him turn on his own dome lights, raise up out of his seat and extricate his own erection from his jeans and shake it at me. I gave him a thumbs up. He pointed at me, his mouth then his d***. You. S***. Me.
I nodded, mouth still full of trucker c*** and gave him another thumbs up. He gave me the ok sign and pointed forward. Lyckmyass asked, “You just make a date with that guy?”
I took his d*** out of my mouth and grinned, “Sure did!”
He shook his head in wonder. “Then get your tongue back up my a****** and get me off so you can go take care of your next customer.” He laughed as he pushed my face back down to his shining, wet crack.
Back on track, I gave him one more round of tongue cleaning and r***** kissing. I felt his sphincter push out so I started sucking. Hard. “F***!” *suckspitsuckspitsuckspit* His sphincter bounced in and out of his colon like a paddle ball on a short string. I slid my hand up to wrap around his d***, so hard now it wouldn’t lay back on his belly but stood out, twitching, his balls slowly disappearing up into his gut. “Here it comes!”
I moved my head off his shitter and popped his c*** into my mouth. A couple of slow strokes and it flexed, the urethra swelled and thick c** flowed into my mouth. Another flex, another flow. Four times it pumped gooey, warm fluid past my lips and across my tongue as he lay there head back, eyes closed, trembling, whimpering and muttering incomprehensibly. I shifted my position and he got a pained look on his face. “Stop!”. I froze. He looked down with the sort of expression you’d have if somebody had just stopped torturing you. Wrapping one hand around my head and the other fist around his c***, he prevented me from moving again. The pained expression slowly faded into a wide grin and suddenly he was laughing.
His feet hit the floor as he sat up, still holding my head. “Hold still.” He fumbled on the dash, I heard a click and a flashlight shone in my eyes. I flinched. “Sorry.” I had a feeling what he was doing. “Open your mouth.” I tipped my head back and obeyed. I knew what he’d be looking at. My tongue, teeth, palate and the head of his c*** coated with a light gray slime and at the back of my mouth, a white puddle of his own sperm.
I squeezed some onto my lips to coat them thickly and let some dribble from the corner of my mouth then gulped. When I parted my lips again, his c** was gone. I used my tongue to push some up into my short ‘stache to munch on later, then used a finger from his other hand to wipe up the dribble. I licked it from his finger and used his thumb to smear more c** into my ‘stache. I gently slurped the thick coating off his c*** head, sat up in my seat and asked for a smoke knowing he could see a ring of glistening slime around my mouth. He tossed them at me and the lighter. “Keep ’em.” I lit one, dragged heavily on it and passed it to him. A string of his c** stretched half a foot to my mouth before it broke, dangling a droplet an inch below the filter of the Marlboro. Without hesitation he took it from me, jammed it in his mouth and took his own drag then handed it back for me to give him a reload while he licked that droplet of his c** off his lower lip. You gotta respect a top like that. He licked another string of c** off our smoke, then turned on the lights and found a clipboard and pen. “What’s your number?” I gave it to him. “Name?”
“Ask for Lee.” He wrote it down.
“You local?”
“Naw. About an hour south across the state line, three or four minutes off exit 302.” He noted it down. “If you take a right from southbound, you’ll see an empty car dealership in an empty shopping center on your left. Usually lots of rigs and sometimes disconnected trailers there. You can call and I’ll be there in five.” He nodded again before offering me his hand.
“Name’s Tommy. I’ll be callin’ ya.” I got a very strong, manly squeeze. I would never hit on a guy with such a masculine handshake which just proves that you can never tell for sure until the d*** is in your mouth.
I climbed out thanking him for the skin, the sperm and the smokes and on the way to my car looked up and thanked the stars too. It wasn’t until his taillights were gone that I remembered another driver was probably waiting for me at the next pullover.