Passing me a tissue and telling me to get dressed and follow him, Yves led me into the restaurant of the service station, to a part reserved for truckers. He walked over to a table where three other drivers were already eating, and motioned me to sit down. I slid along the bench and allow Yves to sit next to me had to squeeze up next to one of the others, who introduced himself as Bertrand.
Surrounded by the truckers I soon lost track of what they were saying as they talked in fast colloquial French to one another. However I did seem to be the main topic of conversation and it soon became clear that a graphic description of the ride was being given. Yves was fondling my knee under the table and the Bertrand seemed to have the same idea. When I felt a foot belonging to one of the men opposite on my calf I began to panic a little. How far was this going to lead? I was somewhere in the middle of nowhere in France, with four guys all of whom were heavier than me.
As I finished my meal Bertrand said to me in broken English that Yves was going to Montpellier, but he was going to Italy, and could take me all the way to Cannes or Nice. I thanked him and said I hoped Yves would not mind. This Bertrand translated, and the reply from Yves caused a burst of laughter from the others. I gathered from Bertrand that Yves said he was a once a week performer, and that Montpellier wasn't a weeks drive away.
As we walked to Bertrand's truck, Yves gave me a pat on the arse, a quick fondle of my crotch and wished me Bon Voyage. Thanking him I climbed up beside Bertrand, grateful I had both a lift and only one guy to cope with. Bertrand must have been late 40s, short , squat, powerful, and needed just a beret to look typically French. Despite his appearance he was not as assertive as Yves and allowed me to keep my clothes on, contenting himself with stroking my thigh whenever his hand was not needed to change gear.
I must have fallen asleep as the next thing I knew we had parked in a lay-by in the bend at the top of a hill. I was greeted with a superb view of dawn rising over the wilderness of the Camargue.
"Its nice,n'est-ce pas?"
Yes I agreed, "very nice"
"Now you undress for me, non?"
Stripping for him as I had for Yves, he ran his fingers gently over my arms, my chest, his touch bordering on tickling. For what seemed for ever he teased me, stroking every part of me he could reach except the parts that were straining for his touch.
"Lie down" he instructed.
I obeyed as much as I could, my back resting against the lower part of the passenger door, my legs stretched across the seat. Bertrand leaned between my legs kissing the inside of my thighs, working his way towards by crutch. Licking my balls and then along my shaft, his tongue making me harder and even more erect. His hands stroked my belly and then played with my nipples, causing furthers tremors of excitement to run through me. Sliding his mouth over the end of my cock, he started to suck gently, his tongue working as he did so.
I grabbed his head with both hands urging to go faster, but he continued his slow tantalising approach. Such a contrast with Yves' urgency and with the powerful hairy chest he revealed as he took off his shirt.
Lying over me, he kissed and sucked my nipples as he squeezed my cock between us. I felt his hardness through his jeans against my thigh. I tried to unfasten his belt but he was a bit to far away. With an agility that belied his size he swung himself round so he was standing crouched beside me and I could reach him. Lowering his trousers and pants to his ankles I manouvered his cock into my mouth and began to suck, trying to match my rhythm to that of his hand on my prick.
We continued pumping each other, until I felt Bertrand's body tense, and a gush of hot spunk hit the back of my throat. As it did so my own release came, not as powerful as previously but more intense from the longer build up. I lay there with cum on my thighs,belly, and dribbling down my face.
Bertrand silently dressed himself and passed me a cloth to clean myself. It seemed he was a bit uncomfortable after this, perhaps a basically straight guy with guilt feelings, so I got dressed and tried to make small talk for the few hours until he dropped me off on the outskirts of Cannes
