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TRUCKSTOP thick and muscular and big maybe
TRUCK STOP
by Alex S. Sexton
This is subject to all the usual provisos: Graphic sex follows. I'm not
responsible for you reading this if you are underage. The contents are
purely fiction and all characters are figments of my imagination. This
story is copyrighted and any reproduction requires the explicit consent of
the author; i.e. me. AIDS/HIV and other STD do not exist in my fiction
but do in reality-if you attempt to live the lifestyle depicted please take
precautions.
"If you lack the maturity to grasp this disclaimer, then under no
circumstances read this without guidance of someone more mature" (to
quote Deirdre).
TRUCK STOP
Hazel, dirty hair, I wouldn't be seen with you anywhere.
-Bob DylanONE At first it was only snowing. Jack had dumped her on the
side of the road on some fucked-up highway in the middle of nowhere. It
had probably been half-an-hour ago, though she didn't wear a watch so had
to guess, and only two pairs of lights had driven by at like 80 miles an
hour. It was two or three in the morning. She pulled the thin coat Jack
had got her at Goodwill in San Diego after he'd got the news to take the
next trailer north to Minneapolis. It was a quilted coat but too thin to
keep her warm in the wind and too to repel moisture. And then the snow
turned to sleet and she could feel the cold dampness soak to her flesh.
She shivered.
There was nothing for it but to start walking. If she didn't the cold
would kill her by morning. In the pitch black she tripped and stumble over
unseen highway debris. Cans and bottles, some broken with shards, paper
bags with fast-food logos filled empty Styrofoam boxes, strips of rubber
tires with their wire firmament poking through. The road in front of her
glowed. For a moment she thought she was hallucinating, or maybe it was
the Northern Lights. Then she realized it was another vehicle coming up
behind her but still too far for her to hear. The light grew brighter and
she heard the bass engine of a rig. She stepped farther from the roadway
in anticipation of the slipstream as it burst by her.
Even before it overtook her the truck started slowing, but it was still
doing fifty as it passed. The driver wasn't breaking hard to keep straight
on the slippery road. It slowly drifted off onto the shoulder and stopped
about a quarter-mile ahead. She hefted the loose strap of her knapsack
around her shoulders and broke into a steady jog. About three minutes
later she reached the truck and prayed it wouldn't start to pull off. That
had happened too many times before to count, a sick joke that had never
made her laugh. Her luck held out, and in fact the passenger door popped
open. She clambered up into the cab.
Immediately she took inventory of the driver and the truck's interior.
She'd done this enough times in the last two years that this first scope
could tell her a lot of things, what to expect and what was to be expected
of her. The driver was in his late forties or early fifties, white
receding hair and a baseball cap. Wore a leather jacket with a Cubs logo.
Wedding ring pinching fat fingers on calloused hands. No cigarette smoke
and the ashtray was shut. Above it a bumper sticker that read "Jesus is
Lord." Looked like a Bible sticking up between the seats with the sets of
maps. No music playing, but a box of cassettes was fixed in front of the
gearshifts and was a fair mix of country and gospel.
"Thank you, sir," she said in her little voice and exaggerating her
Southern drawl. The driver shifts into first and carefully pulls off the
shoulder on to the highway. He rides up through the gears until the truck
reaches cruising speed on the empty highway.
"Now what were you doing out on the highway and at three thirty in the
morning, little lady?" he asked slowly but keeping her eyes on the road.
"I got dumped out there, sir. . .." She also stares ahead into the gloom
of the night, the sleet slapping and sticking to the windshield, blinking
her big brown eyes. "I was hitchhiking and got this ride. But when we got
out in the middle of the nowhere he tried . . . well he tried to make me
do things. But I wouldn't. He got angry and threw me out on the side of
the road." She sniffled and forced a tear to run down her right cheek.
"You shouldn't be hitching missy," ordained the driver glancing at her
to see if she took in this missive. "How are you anyways?"
"Seventeen," she lied, taking a couple of years off her real age knowing
that innocence could be her saving grace and that she could fool for
seventeen.
"What are you doing on the road in the first place?" Not for the first
time she had some inkling of what it is like to be in a booth.
With the blackness of the night the cab feels like a box, just there's no
screen separating her from the driver.
"I ran away from home. My step-dad. . ." she paused to let the ellipses
explain that horror, that sin. "That was three months ago, and I went to
California." The Promised Land. "But it wasn't what I expected. So I was
trying to get back to Mom."
"Where's home?"
She thought for a moment before answering. She was somewhere in the
mountain states heading east with a guy wearing a Cubbies jacket with a
mid-Western accent. "Washington DC. Well, Reston."
The driver nodded thoughtfully. "Well, we can take you as far as
Chicago if that helps. And I think its best for you to ride with us than
use that thumb. But then we're heading home back to Rockford for a week of
rest. Would that suit you?"
She nodded politely. "Yes sir. I'm most grateful."
"What's your name, missy?"
"Hazel."
TWO His curiosity satisfied Hank, for she found out that was his name
later, drove mainly in silence. In the windshield she saw her reflection.
Straw shoulder-length hair matted and wet, some sticking to her forehead
and a strand on her stuck on her cheek. A small upturned nose still
from the cold. The mirror exaggerated her paleness. Her lips were full,
almost puffy and anchored an oval face. Hazel found herself drifting off
to sleep in the hot cab.
Hazel woke when the truck pulled into the parking lot. She was
disoriented and then located where she was, at least in a generic sense, by
the neon signs over the diner and promoting cheap gas and diesel. More
shocking was the head poking between the seats. Platinum hair, clearly
dyed, on top of a square face with crow lines around the eyes.
"Hank, I thinks she's awake." The voice was joyous compared to Hank's
serious monotone.
"Just in time for breakfast," he noted.
"Hon, you awake?" The woman poked Hazel's ribcage. "Hank's told me
about you. Glad we can help get you closer to home, praise the Lord." She
squeezed Hazel's hand.
"We're going to be stopping here for a few hours missy . . . Hazel,"
she was told, "Get some food, a shower and some shuteye. And gas." Hank
rolled his eyes and the woman grinned.
"You'll be getting some home cooking soon Hank-baby," she said and then
turned to Hazel. "I'm Joanie. You look like you need a good breakfast, a
shower and maybe run your clothes through the washer. We'll be here about
six, seven hours. Hank and I need a little R&R on a real bed." Hank
scowled at Joanie.
"Where's here?" Hazel asked.
"Rawlings, Wyoming," Joanie answered, "where they serve the best grits
west of the Mississippi. A little southern comfort for like you and
me."
They ate breakfast at the truck stop. Hank ate a double portion of
scramble eggs, bacon and hash browns, while the two women were moderate in
their appetite. When they finished eating Hank paid the bill.
"I need some shuteye now," he said with a sigh. "I know Joanie wants to
shower and you probably do too. You can sleep in the truck-I left the
passenger door open." Joanie arched her eyebrows. "No, I guess you
should have a real bed if we're going to."
Hank pulled open his wallet and gave Hazel thirty dollars. "That should
cover a shower and a bunk for you."
"Thank you sir," Hazel responded, and made herself small and vulnerable.
Joanie and Hazel went to the shower room. Hazel stayed under the hot
water until she felt her core warm to human temperature. She lathered her
body with soap. She was thin, some might say anorexic. Her were
small but the nipples tight and pink, and got pinker as she washed the soap
off. Her hips were bony, and she thrust them forward to wash the sparse
hair on her mons, and the nether lips she imitated them fucking. When she
got out of the shower Joanie was almost fully dressed.
"I'm going to find Hank. We're getting back on the road at one. Meet
us in the diner, ok?"
Hazel nodded. As Joanie left and Hazel took the opportunity to wash
some clothes. Still wrapped in the truck stop towel she rinsed all her
clothes except the still damp jacket. She dried what she was going to
wear, nylon and pink bra, under the hand-blower, then her tee
shirt, a rag sweater and her jeans. Once she was dressed she dried the
rest of her clothes, another set of underwear and two more tee shirts.
She'd learnt to take the opportunity to do laundry. Even though it was
cold she took off and packed her sweater into her bag. Since they weren't
that big the sweater hid her tits; they were much more perky pressing
through the white tee.
Hazel sat on the bench and packed her spare clothes into her oily
knapsack, and then counted her money. She had the thirty dollars Hank had
given her, another six left over from Jack and maybe two more in change.
She slipped them into her tight jeans and headed for the truck stop diner.
THREE It was light when Hazel stomped through the ice across the parking
lot. She didn't have a watch; the blinking neon sign told her it was 7:42.
When she walked into the diner she surveyed it for potential and then sat
at the counter and ordered coffee, black and plain. Looking around the
diner she soon focused on her targets. A black guy, with light complexion
and a shaved head, maybe in his mid-thirties, and his partner who was about
25, receding hairline, and glasses. Hazel finished her coffee and then
strode over to their table.
"Hi. I'm Hazel," she introduced herself, "I'm looking for a ride."
The two truckers looked up at her. Her clean jeans clung to her hips,
which she jutted out and rested a hand on.
"Where to, baby?" asked the man.
"Somewhere hot." She looked him in the eye. Her coat was open, and
underneath Hazel wore a white tee that was tight over her breasts.
Consciously she pushed her chest forward.
"Why don't you sit down?"
Hazel slid into the booth next to him, pressing her thigh against his.
He motioned a waitress and ordered a coffee for Hazel.
"We're heading to Kansas City, and then got another contract for a rig
to Houston," he explained. "I'm Walter, but everyone calls me 'Razor'".
"Glad to meet you Razor. I'm Hazel. And your friend is?" Hazel sipped
the coffee just being placed before her but was still too hot drink.
"Junior here is Cliff," said Walter or Razor as he pushed a forkful of
eggs and bacon into his mouth.
Hazel held her hand over the table and shaked Cliff's.
"Is Houston hot enough for you?" Razor asked.
"Houston is hot enough for me, but what's on the way. I don't want to
feel cold inside heading south."
"I don't think that'll be a problem," Razor answered winking at Cliff,
"if you know what I mean."
Hazel lifted the white porcelain cup to her lips and finished her
coffee. "I think I know what you mean," she said and licked the lip of the
coffee cup.
FOUR Razor unlocked the passenger door and helped Hazel into the cab of
the truck with a brief but friendly push on the ass. He tossed the keys to
Cliff.
"You drive," Razor said.
"It's not my turn."
"I'm the boss here, Junior," Razor said.
Hazel knew what was going to happen next, or at least sooner or later,
and didn't even make the pretense of sitting in the cab but immediately
scurried into the bunk area. Razor was right behind her.
The truck's engine started and Cliff grinded the gears into first and
pulled it out of the parking bay and headed to the on-ramp of the
Interstate. In the back of the cab Hazel lay on her back on the small
mattress. Razor lay down beside her and ran his hand over her chest and
cupped a breast. He bent over her and kissed her nipple through the fabric
of her tee and bra. Hazel's hand crept up his thigh to his crotch;
her fingertips grazed over his balls and found the outline of his semi-hard
prick. She unbuttoned his pants and drew down the zipper of Razor's jeans.
His cock flexed out from the opening. Hazel pulled it toward her mouth
and placed her lips around its head. It was a nice cock, Hazel thought,
hard, and muscular, and big-maybe an eight-inch. While she on
its tips she unbuttoned, unzipped and pulled down her own jeans, kicking
them off when they hung on her ankles. With equal adeptness Hazel peeled
off her panties.
When he was hard she pulled her mouth off it making a popping sound.
Razor was sitting with his back against the wall of the cab. Hazel knelt
between his legs and pulled down his pants so they bunched at around his
knees. Carefully she sat on his lap, his cock mashed against her bush and
pressing hard against her belly, and kissed his neck.
"You are a big boy," she whispered huskily.
"Wait till you see Junior." He easily lifted her small frame off his lap
so she was poised above him. Hazel reached down and found his throbbing
member and directed its head into the opening of her snatch. Carefully he
lowered her hips and its length impaled her. Hazel closed her brown eyes
and savored the throbbing gristle inside of her. Razor's pelvis began to
push into her, and taking his cue Hazel started to ride his cock by lifting
herself from her knees that were astride his thighs. Razor smiled
blissfully and peeled up her and pawed her breasts. Hazel lifted the
tee over her face and tossed it over her shoulder. She unclipped the
broach between the cups of her bra and the pink material fell away
revealing her small firm breasts.
She shifted her weight to her nipples were closed to Razor's face and
his cock slid over her clit. Like a baby he suckled her and
Hazel's nipples felt like they were going to explode. His hardness began
to pummel into her and she began to be rocked by tiny orgasms though each
new one was bigger than the last. Hazel began to groan each time the
flashes of pleasure pulsed through her body.
"Uh . . . uh . . . uh . . . uh. . . uh . . uh . . uh . uh .
uh-uh," she panted. Hazel held his shoulders for balance as Razor's
thrusts got more urgent. The whole eight inches slid in and out of her and
with each impaling he was getting the head farther into her. His brown
face started shaking from side-to-side.
"Shit yeah," he implored as he exploded in her. Hazel could feel the
white erupt from his black cock like molten metal into the already hot
juices of her cunt.
"You alright back," called Cliff from truck's cab.
"Shit yeah," Razor repeated but much slower this time.
(END PART 1) FIVE When Razor began to soften, still inside her, Hazel
ground her pelvis against his. When that didn't produce the desired result
she slipped the limp piece of meat from between her legs and went down on
him again. "Never leave them wanting more" was her motto, learned from
experience of two years with truckers. Carefully she licked the juices,
her own and the specks of salty semen that glittered on its length. Pretty
soon Razor had another erection that he kept trying to stick down her
throat. She repressed the natural gag reflex and took the whole length in
her mouth. Her lips pressed into his black pubic hair. Razor's cock slip
against the roof of her mouth and the head was deep in her gullet.
Roughly he pulled her up and almost threw her onto her back. Kneeling
between her legs he easily lifted her hips with one hand and with the other
guided his member so it slid over her opening. His prick brushed over her
clit and Hazel felt a tingle at the base of her spine. Without warning he
crammed the whole thing into her. Her shoulders pressed into the thin
mattress while Hazel's pelvis was a foot higher and on the receiving end of
the black man's eight inch cock that easily slid out and rammed into her.
His hands held her pelvis up while his thumbs stroked the lips that wrapped
around his pricked. Each time they brushed against her clit Hazel's
quivers got a little larger. The little orgasms started erupting but were
building to a fully blown climax. This Razor was a good cocksman.
Hazel started writhing as she came. Razor grimaced, his eyes tightly
shut in what looked like pain, and he pulled his length from her. White
spurts of come ejected, and sticky, onto her stomach . . . she
counted: one. . two . . three . . . . four . . . . . . . five. The
last small white gob spilled on her pubic hair, the first had landed
between her small tits. She reached for his cock and caressed it, trying
to keep it hard but Razor wilted in her hand. He fell back and sat leaning
against the cab.
"Christ," he said admiringly, "you are hot to trot."
She smiled and thought that she could have waited at the last truck stop
for a wide with that pair of Jesus freaks.
SIX When he recovered Razor ordered Junior to pull over at a rest stop
and took over driving. Hazel waited in the back of the cab for the younger
man to join her. She was still naked but had cleaned her torso with a hand
towel but still felt clammy inside. Cliff was tired-he'd been driving all
night before breakfast and another couple of hours while Razor fucked her
twice-but Hazel used her lips to good purpose and soon had the younger
hard. He was big, at least a couple of inches longer than Razor, though
his cock was a lot thinner. Her tongue swirled over its purple head and
she used her teeth to nibble the underside. There was no way she was going
to try and deep throat this thing, she thought, not while I'm still hurting
from Razor's penetration into her gullet.
Hazel started to suck the long thin prick in earnest, her lips reaching
halfway down his length before pulling up. Saliva made each long draw
easy. Once small hand gripped the base of Cliff's rod, pulling tight what
little slack there was in his hard on. Then she started to jerk her hand
in rhythm with her mouth, pulling Cliff's cock taught as she almost
released it with her lips, the releasing his hand she plunged her face
around. It didn't take more than a minute or two before he came. Hazel
quickened her movement and felt the warm gushes splash against her cheeks.
A little less salty than razor, she thought as she swallowed, and not as
thick.
After his orgasm Cliff kind of keeled over on the mat and was soon
snoring. Hazel pulled a blanket over his prostrate body and started
picking through the floor of the cab for her clothes. She pulled on her
panties and jeans but couldn't find her shirt. From her backpack she
pulled out her sweater, then thinking for a moment shook her bra and packed
it away before pulling the sweater over her head. The wool felt rough
against her nipples. Carefully, so as not to wake Cliff, she crawled out
of the back of the cab, between the seats at the front and slid across the
passenger seat.
It was a bright day. There wasn't a cloud in the sky and the sun glared
off the melting mush of snow and sleet. The highway was a black ribbon
threading through white fields.
Razor looked at her. "How's Junior?"
"He's fine. And he ain't so Junior." Hazel smiled and wiped a strand of
hair from her eye. There wasn't much traffic.
"Where are we?" she asked, looking away from the window.
"We just got into Nebraska. Should make Kansas City by nightfall."
They drove in silence. The big engine hummed beneath them augmented by
the snoring from the back of the cab.
"Nebraska's flat and boring," Hazel observed after five minutes.
"It is that," the truck driver confirmed. He glanced over and saw a
glint in her eyes.
"I know how to make it less boring."
"How's that?"
"Unbuckle your belt and pants and you'll see."
"Jesus," he sighed but did it anyway.
Hazel scooted across the wide seat and lay her head in his lap. She
could still smell the sex from earlier wafting from his crotch. She
unzipped his fly and rubbed his flaccid prick through his underwear. When
she felt it begin to stir she pulled out. She examined it, twisting it
around like it was the first time she'd seen a man's parts. Her hands
could feel the blood pumping up his meat, turning it from a limp lump into
prime rib.
She started to nip at this solid thing, with her lips and not her teeth.
Both hands squeezed and pressed both his hard on and balls. A droplet of
clear liquid oozed from his peehole, which she licked with a quick swipe of
her tongue. Pretty soon she had gobbled the whole thing up so the head was
deep down her throat. Razor had already come twice that morning so Hazel
it would probably take a while for him to do it again. Rather than get
energetic and try and force it, she was much more exploratory, played with
his balls and stuck an index finger between his buttocks till the tip found
the bud of his anus. It she tried too hard all she'd get was a saw jaw;
she knew that from experience.
"Christ, you're one fine little cocksucker," he complemented. Razor was
finding it difficult to keep the truck straight on the highway while
Hazel's head bobbed up and down in his lap. Still he kept driving with
only one hand gripping the wheel firmly while the other squeezed one of her
breasts through her sweater so hard that it hurt. But that didn't deter
Hazel who felt the sperm beginning to ooze from his balls. It was only
then she started to pump him hard with her mouth. When he finally came she
didn't it but instead let it wash around her mouth. He tasted
better than the other one. She lifted her head off his dying cock and
looked at him. Razor blew the truck's horn a couple of times, grinning.
Hazel grinned so he could see some of his come on his tongue and her lips,
and then gulped it down.
SEVEN They got to Kansas City around eight and left the trailer at the
loading yard. There'd been some mess up and they couldn't pick up another
load until morning. Razor asked if Hazel wanted to come with them to a
Motel-6 and spend the night.
"Sure, I need to shower," she said.
"I bet you do."
When they got to the room Hazel took over the bathroom and took a steamy
hot shower. Razor went off on foot to find a liquor store and some food
while Cliff kicked off his shoes and sat in front of the TV. When she
finished her shower Hazel washed her delicates and hung them on the shower
rod. Wearing only the dressing gown she found hanging on the bathroom door
she sat on the loveseat next to Cliff. Razor still hadn't come back.
Hazel curled into the corner of the couch and with her naked foot began
to stroke Cliff's thigh. When he looked at she smiled at him.
"I've been wondering what it would be like to have your big thing inside
of me."
Cliff shook his head.
"I'm wondering if I could even take it all the way," Hazel purred, "What
do you think?"
Her foot was now rubbing the crotch of his jeans which was now swelling.
She pulled the belt cord of her gown so it fell open and then leaned over
him. Hazel's quivered in his face. In a series of quick movements
Cliff grabbed the remote, punched off the TV, dropped the plastic
controller to the floor and cupped her breasts. She felt his calloused
thumbs stroke the aureoles and nipples. They immediately perked up.
Hazel's hand had taken over where her foot had been and she could feel his
throbbing prick trying to burst out his jeans. Easily she unclasped the
belt button and pulled down his zipper. Her experienced hand found the
opening of his shorts and grasped the long thin cock.
"How long is it?"
He pushed her back and pulled down his jeans and shorts. By the time
they flopped on the floor Hazel had unbuttoned his shirt. He stood up
holding her under the shoulders and shook off the shirt. Hazel wrapped her
thighs around his waist and could feel his hard on pressing between the
cheeks of her ass.
"Really, how long is it?" she asked a second time.
"Ten and half inches. You think you can take it?"
"I want to try."
Cliff tossed her on her back onto the made bed. When Hazel looked up
she saw his long thin rod stretching upward in front his belly. It looked
liked it belonged on a horse. For the first time she began to doubt
whether she really could absorb the whole length. She was only five foot
three. She tried to calculate what was ten and half inches above the
opening of her and figured it might be her breastbone. The thing
was one-sixth her height.
"Roll over," he ordered. Compliantly Hazel did as she was told. He
lifted her hips so she was crouched on the mattress. In anticipation she
buried her face into the bedcovers and clenched some of the material
between her teeth. She felt something brush against her labia and closed
her eyes, waiting. It was only his tongue. She felt the wet tip probed
her opening and his lips purse around her clit. It was more than arousing
and soon she felt her body being racked with mini-orgasms. Man, she
thought, this guy's a real cunt-licker.
"You've got a sweet Hazel," Cliff commented when he finished
eating her, and without further ado plunged six inches of his hard dick
into it. His eating her out had her all moist and anyway it's girth wasn't
as impressive as its length, so the prick slipped in easily. Mechanically
he began to fuck her in short sharp jerks. Hazel slipped one hand between
her legs and began to play with her clit in rhythm with his thrusts.
Another orgasm rocked her mind.
"That's about half of it . . . you want to see if you can take some
more?"
Her voice muffled by the covers she said yes and felt the head of his
cock stretching her and penetrated another couple of inches. Her
insides felt on fire as he began to fuck her deeper. She was sure he could
feel his prick almost breaking her apart. Again her body responded and
slowly her flesh relaxed around his meat. Each thrust was evoking a
response or maybe it was her hand rubbing her clitoris.
"Is that all of it?" she asked releasing the blanket clenched between
her teeth. Cliff answered by thrusting another couple of inches into her.
Hazel almost screamed as her body was impaled. It was awesome. This long
thin cock fucked her all the way, she could feel his pubic bone bouncing
off her ass cheeks. It was searing her inside. Cliff slowed his rhythm
and made long drawn out strokes. She could feel his prick head almost slip
out before slowly going deeper and deeper till it was in to the hilt of his
balls.
Almost oblivious she became conscious there was someone else in the
room. It was Razor. She looked to the door where he was standing with a
pizza box in one hand and a bottle of Jack in the other.
"Jesus Junior," he said taking it all in, "you're going to rip her
apart."
Cliff responded by picking up the pace, though with withdrawal he left a
vacuum in her and the filled it with the next plunge. Razor put down
the pizza and poured same mash into a tooth glass. He sat on the other bed
and sipped slowly and after putting the glass down on the nightstand,
unzipped his pants and pulled out his hardening prick. With every other
stroke Hazel was peaking again and again. Razor walked around the bed and
waved his dick in Hazel's face. Like a she got on all fours and tried
to suck its purple head but was so shaken it was all she could do to lick
it. Cliff came, writhing inside her as his sperm spilled into her. Hazel
came, her eyes watering from the exhilaration.
Cliff pulled out of her. Hazel's breathing returned to something
approaching normal and resumed Razor's cock. Slowly, so the union
of his prick with her mouth wouldn't be broken, Razor sat on the bed with
his back on headboard. Still on all fours Hazel his prick.
Cliff watched her, stroking his still hard member. Razor's prick was
throbbing in her mouth when Hazel felt Cliff get on the bed behind her, his
hands caressing her buttocks.
"I can't suck and fuck at the same time," Hazel said after emptying her
mouth of Razor's cock. For a moment both lucked at her puzzled, but as
she moved it dawned on them that Hazel had a solution. She got on knees
and moved up Razor's body while grasping Cliff's hand. Razor was the first
to get it.
"Hey, I'm not taking sloppy seconds," he grumbled outraged.
"Baby," adjudged Hazel. She turned around so she faced Cliff and
exchanged his cock for his hand. With her free hand she pulled one of her
ass cheeks to the side and felt the tip of Razor's cock brush against her
asshole. She felt his head breach the puffed up lips of her backdoor
opening.
"You sure you can take it," Razor asked, his voice concerned. Hazel
answered by sitting down on his hardness, and heard him gasp as his prick
was engulfed by the tightness of her rectum. Hazel leaned back, still
holding Cliff's cock like a stiff leash, so her back rested on Razor's
hairy chest. She pulled Cliff by his long member toward her guiding it
into the opening of her vagina. Cliff plunged half the length into her as
he lay atop her body, his hands mashing her tits.
Razor started thrusting into her ass, Cliff responded in kind. She
grabbed the white man's buttocks so the whole ten inches of his prick
pierced through her. He rocked into her slowly, no doubt feeling the
thicker cock of Razor's a membrane away. Both fucked her slowly,
almost tenderly. Hazel's inside churned as eighteen inches of cock filled
her plumbing, which amazed her. Both of them were already worn out from
all the day's fucking but they kept grinding their meaty bones into her.
The orgasms started to build-up and explode, and she tried to count them
but her head was too cloudy. Then she came again. How many times now?
she tried to think but they kept on fucking her.
Cliff came first, gushing into her and collapsing onto her chest. That
seemed to invigorate Razor some and he picked up his pace and started to
pummel her ass. Hazel's fingers touched her clit, and could feel the
softening rod that was still inside her. The friction of Razor's thrusting
had dried her saliva and his eight inches were beginning to hurt. She took
her mind off it by playing with her clit, trying to coax one more climax
from her wasted body. She didn't feel Razor's climax but noted it by the
increasing ease with which his prick moved in and out of her not it had
spilled some lubrication. He kept thrusting into her even as he relaxed to
semi-hard until she came.
Cliff slid out of her and went to the bathroom. Hazel lay on her back
on top of Razor and felt his muscle shrinking inside her ass. Slowly she
maneuvered so his penis no longer pierced her. Cliff was back in the room
standing naked by the table as she decoupled from Razor. His once massive
penis looked almost normal hanging between his legs.
"The pizza's cold," he said simply.
EIGHT The next morning they drove the truck to the loading yard. The
night before they drank the bottle of bourbon after finishing the pizza.
Razor fell asleep on one bed. Hazel gave Cliff a while he was
watching Sport's Center and he came during the hockey highlights. Then
Cliff took the other bed. Hazel showered again, cleaning the come and
dried up juices from her orifice and brushing her teeth. She grabbed one
of the bedcovers and slept on the couch with the on some bad late-night
sci-fi.
The sparkle of the woke her. Looking around she oriented herself.
She could here Cliff in the shower while Razor snored contently. Without
waking him she carefully lifted the sheets. He had a morning hard-on that
she automatically sucked. When he woke and became conscious of what was
happening he pulled her on top of him and she rode him till he came. When
they were finished they became aware that Cliff had changed channels and
was watching the sport news again. Razor ordered room service so by the
time Hazel was out of the shower there was a cold plate of eggs and bacon,
with soggy toast.
At the loading yard they hitched a trailer onto the cab. Razor drove
through the barbed wire covered gate and pulled onto the on-ramp of the
highway. Hazel sat between the two truckers. After driving around the KC
beltway they picked up I-70 heading east.
"I thought we were going to Houston?" Hazel asked.
"Change of plans. This load is for Newark."
They kept driving on the busy interstate. After a couple of hours Razor
pulled into a truck stop to fill the tanks with diesel. Cliff headed to
the restroom for a crap. Hazel grabbed her knapsack from the back of the
cab and slipped out the door without either of them seeing her. She went
into the diner and found the ladies' restroom and waited in a stall. For
an hour, maybe more, until she felt certain Razor and his Junior would have
left.
She was going south for the winter. No matter what anyone else wanted.
Taking off her sweater so everyone could see her tight clutch her
small breasts, Hazel sided up to the counter and ordered a coffee and
looked around the room at the truckers dining.
END