The man’s groan was born deep down….
The moan rumbled and crept up from secret depths that he had never explored before, indeed, the realms of his physiological core that he had never known existed.
She was beautiful.
She was smart.
He had seen her only once or twice before, two ships passing in the night….except it was day.
The man is a truck driver. He is middle-aged, but very handsome in a portly persuasion.
His life has been spent thru years of tires whining and rolling across this great country and freaking Canada.
The trucker had no name, but for this tale we will call him….Me.
The woman was younger, not the 5 to 10 in the state pen younger, but younger than the extremely macho trucker.
Her hair was a luxuriant red, flaming like an Irish sunset.
Her eyes were bluer than the Montana sky.
She had a lithe body, the graceful movements of a cat, and a nice rack.
She had a stud piercing in her impressive cleavage, not that Me was staring at the statuesque rack boiling from her low cut tank top or anything but Me had never seen a piercing like that before.
Me was only intrigued, mildly amused….
“How much for a few minutes of your time?” Me asked covertly.
“$10” she said in husky reply.
The trucker’s soul stirred at the sound of her voice.
It was a low, kinda husky….kinda sexy…..A “come hither” voice.
Her big blue eyes shined at the trucker.
Me fell in love right then.
Me followed her into a back room of the truck stop, by the laundry room….out of sight of inquisitive, nosey fucker people.
She sat him down on a comfortable chair in the low lit, incense wafted room, taking off his ball cap and glasses.
Even the feeling of her slowly sliding the glasses from his face moved something within him.
Her fingers had brushed across his cheek and Me felt light-headed.
He had never done anything like this before.
He had never had to pay a woman for this.
The feelings of guilt about his wife back home passed thru his mind like the blink of an eye.
His heart thumped in his chest as the woman began to move her hands over his body, slowly….rhythmically…masterfully.
Her hands were magical tools, her supple body occasionally leaning against his with exquisite pressure, a loving, hungry closeness.
Her humongous rack brushed the back of his head.
Me almost passed out.
The trucker’s eyes were heavy with passion and lust, fantasies and possibilities racing thru his dirty old man’s mind.
The rocking motion of her body against his as her hands moved over him was driving him mad…
He had to have her.
“What do I get for $20” he moaned in desperation.
“Oh…” she purred huskily “the works”….
Me felt her move around to face him, her hands never leaving his neck and shoulders….kneading. rubbing….pleading.
“Oh sweet Jesus that feels good” He whimpered.
She made a purring sound and pressed closer against him, her rigid manhood throbbing against his arm….
Me’s eyes flew open. He fell from the chair, almost falling backwards!
Me stared at her/him dumbfounded!
“You’re a dude!” Me shouted quietly.
“So?” the man chick said “”You were enjoying it weren’t you?”
Me felt the gorge start to rise at the inference….the very suggestion, that he had been enjoying this….this….man-handling of his person…
Me pulled a $20 bill from his pocket with trembling; dirty old man thwarted fingers and laid it on the counter next to the gorgeous man with nice boobs.
Me felt so dirty….
Ravaged like a common trollop…
Abused like a $3 hooker on coupon night.
“Thanks….” said Me as he headed for the door, his steps unsteady….defiled.
Me shakily looked over his shoulder as he left.
The man chick was stuffing the money into her/his cleavage then reached down and adjusted her/his wanker, shaking her/his leg so that her/his “Johnson” would fall back into place just above her/his knee high 3” boots.
Me had to take another shower all of a sudden.
The poor trucker man crawled into the corner of the shower stall under the scalding blast of water, weeping…..scrubbing.
Not without checking the therapists “credentials” if you know what Me means….
Me is never going to tell anyone…..about this.