Near Home--September, 2011
This one starts at the same out of the way rest area, but it doesn’t end there…
Hot. It might as well be August. It’s one of those days where your slightest movement can make you sweat. I’m sitting at the picnic table, reading, keeping an eye on the door to the men’s room. There has been traffic, but lots of families on the way to or from the beach, business men who don’t seem to be looking or just men I can easily ignore. The sun is blazing. I am in the shade. But the heat has given me a semi down the right leg of my 501s. (Oh, I’m far too butch to wear something weather appropriate, like shorts…)
A big rig pulls in. A tall, very blond man opens the door and slides to the asphalt. He glances at me and lopes toward the restroom. He’s in there only for the regulation time it takes to piss. Now he’s walking towards the water pump. No, he’s not. He’s walking towards me.
“Hey.” You’d think I’d be better at this by now.
Long pause. He looks at me. I look at him, then away. He’s older than I thought--but very well maintained. That blond hair may be from a bottle…
He’s focused on the tree behind me as he says, “I see the sun effects you the way it does me.”
His head swivels from the trees to my crotch. “It looks like you’re ready.”
I glance down. Damn. Even I like the look of that. “Yeah.”
“I won’t do it here,” he says showing me the outline of his own cock thru his work pants. “Follow me.”
And he’s gone. None of that ‘What are you into?’ or anything.
I get to my Focus and pull out after him. Where the hell are we going to park a semi truck?
I soon find out. The back parking lot of a McDonalds. I park in the regular lot, and hike towards it across the all but steaming asphalt. As I get there, I see his arm snake out and unlock the passenger door. I take that big step with ease, trying to look like I ride this rig all the time, and enter. He’s behind the drape in the back of the cab. He’s turned on the TV and it’s some talky teenage girl/older man porn. But it is air conditioned. The rush of cold air is heaven. I open the curtain. He’s already half stripped on the fairly sizable bed. I stand to drop my pants and shirt.
“I’m glad to see you again.”
Huh? I have no idea who he is. But I grunt affirmatively.
“You know just what I like.”
Oh, brother. Is he going to give me a hint?
I drop my underwear. He grabs my cock and jerks it a little. His hands are calloused and it is slightly uncomfortable. His dick is standing up. He’s thick and long. Unsure of how to proceed, I do the obvious, and begin to suck his cock. That seems to work. He lets go of me, and I kneel on the bed between his splayed legs. I can deep throat it. And he’s precumming. I suck for quite a while. He pulls me up and goes down on me for a moment, but it’s not something he does well. I squirm free and go back to sucking him.
“Go on, lie back.,” he finally says. “Like last time.”
I do. I stretch out on the blanket. He stands up, well, as high as he can in the back of the cab. He‘s astride me. Right above my cock. I know I have never fucked someone in the cab of a semi. As he starts to lower himself, his ass goes right to my face. In surprise I open my mouth to speak and get hot flesh. But hot clean flesh--so we are fine. More than fine. Nature takes over and I start eating his ass with relish.
“That’s it. You are the only person who will eat my ass.”
I mumble something.
“I don’t even ask the wife--but guys won’t either.”
I vaguely recall tonguing a trucker butt years ago in the back of a cab. Jesus, he remembered me.
He’s jerking away as I eat. I am jerking myself, but frankly spending more time with the meaty ass on my face. I am pouring with sweat. The air conditioner can’t keep up with our rutting. All too soon, he shoots. The first stream hits my penis and my hand. That makes me jerk harder. I shoot as he puddles the rest of his cum onto my chest.
The rest is cordial, but embarrassed on his part. I wipe down with a paper towel and dress as fast as I can. He has cleaned himself off--but is just sitting there naked.
I tie the second shoe, rise and pause at the curtain. “Well, good to see you again.”
He can’t meet my eye now that he’s gotten off. But he sounds cordial enough. I let myself out of the semi and step into the baking noonday sun.
A week later he’s back for more. He tells me he’s driven 150 miles out of his way hoping I’d be there. And I was. We play. I’ve not seen him again.