I can't believe what I've become. Six months ago I was your run-of-the-mill middle-aged husband and father, a boring, suburban guy with a nice house, a good job, a bad golf game, and a hard-on for the neighbor's teenage daughter. Actually, not much of that has changed other than what gives me a hard-on these days; no longer is it the seventeen year old next door in her skimpy bikini, sunning herself by the pool on weekends. Now, I actually look forward to Mondays, when I hit the road driving between customers in my territory and hoping my new buddy will find the time to make me his bitch. Yes, its true, what I've become is a total cockworshipping little whore. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me start at the beginning.
I'm 39 and I live in Reno, Nevada with my wife. We met senior year of college and have been married ever since we graduated. We have three great kids, a dog, an SUV and a killer mortgage payment. I'm a software salesman and my region covers all of Northern Nevada and Utah. My customers are mostly small retail stores and I travel frequently to visit customers throughout my territory. I'm usually on the road two to three weeks per month.
I admit I've had a few affairs over the years with my fair share of coffee shop waitresses, grocery store clerks, or lonely traveling business women. I stay in good shape and I've always had success with the ladies. I'm 6' tall and still at my college playing weight of 185, with a full head of blonde hair, blue eyes and a package that has no problem enticing a slightly drunk woman to forget her inhibitions and throw caution to the wind. Back in college, I was always fascinated that when a girl heard I had 8" between my legs, she'd do almost anything to get me in the sack. Even better, the girls I slept with couldn't wait to tell their friends about bagging my big dick, so next party I'd have several new little cocksluts to choose from.
After 18 years of marriage, my sex life at home is pretty boring. But I still feel guilty every time I cheat on my wife so it's not unusual for me to hole up in some cheap hotel room during the weeks on the road with a porn movie or a titty magazine, taking business into my own hands. I even had a DVD player installed in my company car so I can enjoy some nasty porn on the long drives thru the desolate Nevada and Utah wastelands.
And that's exactly what got me started on the road to being a trucker's submissive fuckbuddy. I was driving along Highway 50 in the middle-of-nowhere Nevada during late fall. Traffic was light and I was watching a smoking hot blowjob compilation dvd, my suit trousers unzipped, my hand slowly jerking off my raging hard boner as I tried to stay in my own lane. I was nearing the point of no return but I didn't want to blow a big load all over my clean trousers so I pulled into a rest stop, completely deserted except for an eighteen wheeler parked at the far end of the lot, curtains pulled on the cab. I assumed the guy was sleeping in his truck, so I hustled out of the car, not even bothering to zip up, my hard cock protruding straight out from my unzipped fly and slipped into the mensroom to relieve myself. It was cool enough that I could see my breath, but the cold air had no effect on my stiff rod as it bobbed up and down, eager to unload the spooge building in my balls.
I dropped my trousers down around my ankles as I stood in front of one of the urinals and proceeded to do some serious whacking, dreaming of the hot little brunette with the big doe eyes and the ridiculous whale tale stamped over her firm, bubble butt that had been blowing the entire basketball team on my dvd. The restroom was filthy, with graffiti littering the walls and an overpowering smell of urine, but I was beyond caring. I was so caught up in my fantasy world that I didn't hear the trucker enter the restroom.
"Hmmm, what you doing their partner?" a deep voice interrupted behind me.
Embarrassed out of my mind, I reached down to yank up my pants and in the process lost my balance and fell flat on my ass.
"You know, you shouldn't be walking around in the parking lot out there with your little penis hanging out. Some would say that's indecent exposure and I hear you can get arrested for that," he chuckled.
"I, I , I...." I stuttered, as I tried to compose myself. "I didn't know anybody was around."
"Obviously not," the big truck driver spat. The guy was huge, probably 6'5" with a big gut that stretched his flannel shirt to the point of button breakage as it sagged over his Levis, a big silver belt buckle fighting to keep his jeans up. He had a full, shaggy beard and was wearing a pair of dark aviator sunglasses that gave him a look of pure evil. His hair was receding but he wore it long in back, braided into a dirty looking pony tail. He was maybe 50 years old and looked mean as dirt.
"I was only trying to relieve myself," I said.
"Yea, son, I know what kind of relief you was looking for," he replied. "It can get pretty lonely out here on the open road, I understand the need for relief."
He reached down and gave his crotch a squeeze, repositioning what looked like a baseball bat running down the inside of his thigh, clearly outlined against his tight denim jeans.
"I'll just be on my way," I tried, hoping he would let me be without any further embarrassment as I tried to pull up my trousers.
"Fella, you ain't going nowhere, yet. You look mighty pretty down there on the floor with your pants around your ankles. You ain't exactly my type, but in a pinch, I reckon you'll do. You familiar with the expression, squeal like a pig, boy?"
Holy shit, I thought to myself. Was this guy saying what I thought he was? Was he planning on raping me right here in this deserted rest stop?
"Um, I don't think you understand, sir," I said. "I'm not gay or anything."
"Who the fuck said anything about gay?" he bellowed. "Are you calling me a fag?"
"Well, uh, no, definitely not," I whimpered, desperate to get out of this situation.
"I'm as straight as this here highway, boy," he continued. "But my dick don't give a shit whether you a man, a woman, or something in between. You got a mouth, a tongue, a throat, and based on what I saw when I walked in, an asshole. Your clitty might be a little bigger than my old ladies, but I don't never pay attention to a clit anyway."
This fucker wasn't kidding. He did intend to rape me. I didn't stand a chance of fending off this big bastard and yelling for help wasn't going to do me any good out here.
"Why don't you go ahead and strip off the rest of those clothes," he demanded.
"Now wait a minute..." I began, but he cut me off with a wicked backhand across my face, knocking me completely sprawling to the nasty concrete floor.
"Don't give me no fucking lip, shithead," he barked. "Strip now or I'm gonna beat the crap out of you. And then I'll strip you myself. Nobody said you had to enjoy this, though that fucking hard clit of yours tells me you'll probably like it."
As difficult as it was to believe, my cock was indeed rock hard. I'd never had any gay or bisexual fantasies before and I was truly scared to death. But somehow, my damn cock was hard as stone. I unbuttoned my shirt and removed my tie. I kicked off my shoes and pulled my pants and boxers off, now completely naked except for my wedding ring.
"That's better son," he spat. "Now crawl over here, cause I got a present for you."
With the slight taste of blood in my mouth, I knelt in front of this hulking monster, hoping that somebody would come along and salvage me from this impending hell.
