Having fed on my cock and ass inside his truck cab, the trucker had let out a howl I was sure could be heard all over the rest stop.
"Man that was good. That's one tasty cock and ass you've got, Dude," he exclaimed.
I pulled my leg from around his back, turned around, moved over and above him, and straddled his lap, between him and the steering wheel. This apparently caught him completely by surprised. My cock, now only half hard, lay on top of his, and I encircled them both in my hand, looked him in the eye, and said. "And so, Mr. Mac Truck, what can I do for you now?"
"What?" he said in reply. "Do for me? Do more than you've done, what you've let me do? Hey, guy, I know you're a rich, young BMW owner and an Apollo to boot and I'm just an old truck jockey. You've already surprised the hell out of me on what you've let me do. I don't expect more than that for a ride to the beach."
"But, what would you really like to do to me?" I asked, squeezing our cocks together with one hand and tracing the design of his tattoo across his left breast with the other hand, lightly brushing across an erect nipple.
"Why, I'd like to fuck your brains out, of course," he flipped out, as if it was a joke, something beyond comprehension or possibility.
"No problem," I shot back.
"You serious?" he responded in disbelief.
"Absolutely. Right here, right now. No problem."
"Hot damn," he yelled. And then he took command again. "Turn yourself around," he said. And while I was doing that, he opened the glove compartment, took out some ointment and a condom, and began lathering up my asshole.
When I was turned around, I leaned into the steering wheel, which sounded the horn. We both laughed, as he reached over, pushed a button on the dash, and the horn stopped blaring. I crouched there, suspended above him, hugging the steering wheel, while he sheathed his long cock and brought its head into position, and then I slowly descended on him, taking him in slowly. I could feel the slight crock in his cock bring the head of his dick against the upper wall of my ass canal, and I gasped and felt some precum bubble up from my own cock as his dick head dragged along my prostate. He was muttering that we should take it slow, to permit me to open to him, but, truth be known, he was not nearly as big as Carl was, so I wasn't having all that much trouble accommodating him. Both he and I could feel my sphincter take the head of his cock and pull him into me, and we both moaned and sighed with pleasure in unison. He wasn't as big as Carl, but he was longer, and I felt him gliding up inside me for what seemed to be ages before I settled into his lap.
We both held it there for a moment, suspended in time and pleasure, but he then started to writhe under me. I came up and back down a couple of times to help him get into a rhythm, but then I held myself up, wrapped around the steering wheel and let him pump me from below. He worked himself into a frenzy, his hands wandering all over me, while his hips worked their way up and down in an ever-faster motion. And he moaned and cussed and told me how good I was and how much pleasure I was giving him in no uncertain words and in loud tones. When I felt him cum, I sat back into his lap, and he wrapped his arms around my chest, buried his face in the small of my back, thanked me again, and whispered something I didn't quite get.
"What was that?" I asked.
"I told you we had other ways of exercising on the road," he said in a louder voice.
"No, I mean that noise outside."
The door beside us was jerked open, and a voice boomed out, "We sure do like to exercise on the road, Dudes. Make some noise, why don't ya? You had us over here with the horn honk."
There stood three of the burliest men I'd ever seen, led by a bald, heavily muscled wrestler type with a mighty big grin.