Breaker Breaker

“Can I offer you a lift honey? The interstate is no place for a nice girl like you to be hitch hiking.”

“Who says I’m nice?” I smile up at the driver of the big red Peterbilt who was looking at me from the driver’s seat of his big rig.

While I was technically hitch hiking I wasn’t doing it in an effort to get anywhere in particular, but I was walking up Interstate 36 looking for a ride.

I stood on the ground with the passenger door of the truck open deciding in the lofty stranger sitting in the driver’s seat was suitable to give me that ride.

“Where are you headed?”

“Where are you going?” Answering a question with a question a game I played so as not to give away too much information about myself.

“That way.” The drive pointed the direction his truck as headed.

“That will do me,” I replied as I climbed up into the cabin.

I loved the space in these new trucks, plenty of room for movement, plenty of room for playing, and plenty of room to enjoy myself.

“Nice truck!” I said as I looked around the cabin. It looked almost clean enough to have just rolled off the production line.

As I settled into the seat on the right hand side of the truck I got to know my escort. His name was Anthony, he was 37, slender, unhappily married and hot. He was hauling a truck load of lettuces, a daily trip that kept him on the road 10 hours a day.

One thing I had learned from my time walking I36 was that most truck drivers, married or single are happy for a bit of fun while no one else is watching I hoped Anthony was the same. I’d also learned that there was no point wasting my time or theirs. With that in mind we’d been rolling less than 5 minutes when I stood up between the two seats and pushed my hand down past Anthony’s arm and onto his crotch.

“Hi I’m Rexie, maybe I can change gears while you drive.” It was a silly comment but it was one that most truck drivers laughed at because they knew where things were headed.

“Not with that stick you wont!” Anthony replied.

I could feel movement in his pants as I moved my hand against his crotch. Now don’t get me wrong it’s nothing against truck drivers but in my experience most of them are there for a good time not a long time. The constraints of the road might have something to do with that but at the end of the day it doesn’t matter, if you’re playing the game you learn to adapt.

I could feel the truck slowing down, I looked out the windscreen, there was no truck stop ahead, but that didn’t seem to worry some drivers, who would stop anywhere for a quickie, and like I said one learns to adapt.

One thing I’ll give Anthony was that he was quick, the truck had barely stopped before he was climbing out of his seat and ushering me into the sleeper of the truck.

“Whoa there cowboy,” I said, “Lets see what you have to offer this cow girl before we get too far.”

Like I said things happen quick and almost before the words had finished falling out of my mouth Anthony had undone his pants and was dropping them to his feet. I sat down on the bed and looked on in excitement.

When he stood up, he had to bend his neck to stop his head hitting the roof, I was presented with a half naked man, growing right before my eyes.

“Maybe you should try this gear stick,” he said to me with a big grin on his face as if he was the first person ever to use such a line.

Never one to ignore an invite I reached forward and grabbed his growing tool and gently started rubbing it up and down. Within seconds I had 7 inches in my hand, it was thick, rigid and felt warm and comforting.

One my knees I started kissing him, licking him, sliding my hand along him.

“Oh baby that’s what I like.”

Then the inevitable.

“Go on suck it, you know you want to!”

He’s right I did want to but that doesn’t take anything from the silliness of the comment, but again you get used to truck drivers.

As I opened my mouth and wrapped my lips around the head of his dick I heard the klaxon of a passing truck, not being able to see the truck I had no idea if it was a fan of mine or Anthony’s, probably mine.

The predicable comments didn’t stop as I sucked and licked and nibbled his 7 inches. I worked him until I felt that wonderful dribble of clear juice drop onto my tongue. Leaving him wanting more I stood up, stepped back to the bed, lifted my red skirt, sat down and showed Anthony I was wearing no underwear.

Anthony was rough, his three day growth rubbing against my wetness, his tongue only concentrating briefly in the areas I needed it before heading straight to my entrance and probing it’s way inside. I grabbed his head and pushed it against me driving his face into my wetness and thrusting my hips at his face.

He wasn’t doing a bad job of getting me excited but he obviously wasn’t privy to those places that a woman really likes. Still like I say, one adapts. I let Anthony lap at me like I was a kitten, several times he got close and sucked the right spot, tickled the right spot or nibbled the right spot but it wasn’t enough I wanted, needed more.

With my hands either side of his head I gently pulled him upward. With my feet on the floor, I lay back on the bed with my legs open.

Just like his effort with the tongue his effort effort with that thick rigid tool were fast and rough, it was like he was running a marathon.

“Whoa there boy, the lettuces will still get delivered but I need time.”

To his credit he did slow down and when he lifted my legs and dropped my ankles over his shoulders I thought things were on the improve. He was moving deep, thrusting hard and throbbing inside me. I could feel my muscles contracting around him, feel my wetness lubricating our pleasure and I was actually moaning.

When he touched my clit with his thumb and started to rub as well as continuing to thrust I knew I was going to at least go home happy, I just hoped he lasted long enough for me to catch up.

My hopes were answered as several minutes later we exploded together.

Twenty minutes later my ride was over. Anthony dropped me at the roadhouse where I’d left my car and continued on his way. Had I been wearing any I would have gifted him my underwear, but they were gifted to Willy, the driver who took me westbound three hours earlier. Instead Anthony got a white card with just my cell number on it and a request that he call me next time he’s driving I36 with some time to kill. Until then, there was other truckers to pursue.


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