There And Back

I was travelling in a truck with Marty, who was giving me a ride to Dallas. Marty’s truck broke down late in the afternoon, about seven hundred miles from our destination. My journey with him thus far had been tremendously pleasant. He was a chatty old guy who regaled me with trucking stories during our entire drive. After a lengthy discussion on his phone, he informed me that a breakdown was on the way but would only be arriving in four to six hours. We would’ve spent the night at a truck stop about one hundred and fifty miles ahead, so it wasn’t a big deal. A short while later, another truck pulled up behind us. The man that got out was an old buddy of Marty’s, named Guthrie.

Guthrie must have been somewhere in his thirties and crudely sexy. He was intimidatingly large and had a beard of epic proportions. After introductions, Marty informed him of our situation. Guthrie was also on the way to Dallas, so Marty suggested I accompany Guthrie if he didn’t mind. Guthrie was not exactly exuding friendliness but said that it would be okay with him. Ten minutes later, I was seated next to him as we got underway.

There was quite a hum in the truck and the white t-shirt Guthrie was wearing looked like it needed a good wash, and there were, large damp yellowed patches under his arms. With a laugh, he apologized for the stink, adding that where hygiene was concerned, he got a bit lazy on his trips. Hoping to save him embarrassment, I just shrugged and said that it didn’t bother me at all.  

These words brought a lustful look to his face, like a gluttonous boy who had just got permitted to scoff another piece of chocolate cake.

Guthrie frequently lowered one of his hands to rearrange the large bulge in the front of his tight-fitting dirty jeans. I had always been a crotch watcher and regularly gazed at the fidgeting taking place next to me. As we drove, I kept looking at his icky fat hands curled around the steering wheel. He was crass and burped and snorted incessantly, before expelling huge globs of spit out of his window.

“If it doesn’t pay rent, it must get evicted,” he told me about to the burbs and spitting after he had done so a few times. His humour got accompanied by his stained toothy grin, surrounded by his thick lips.    

When asked, I told him I was on a three-week break from college and had decided to visit a school friend in Dallas. Having never hiked before, I had elected to do so as part of my overall adventure.

My story complete, Guthrie mentioned that we would be staying over at the truck stop that Marty hadn’t cited. When I asked him if there was any accommodation at this stop, he informed me that there wasn’t before adding that we would work something out once we were there.

By now, my dirty trucker-fucker fantasy had begun to spark, and I wondered if that would materialize with him. I did not want to get ahead of myself because Guthrie looked super straight.

Shortly, we arrived at the truck stop and decided to stretch our legs with a walk to the convenience store/diner for a cold drink. As we exited the store, Guthrie needed to use the restroom and proceeded in that direction. After glugging my drink down hastily, I also meandered over to the toilets to relieve myself. After entering, three stalls appeared to the left, with two of them occupied. There was a urinal to the right. Hating urinals, I engaged the third stall. As I entered, I heard strange noises from the adjoining stall. There was a large hole in the wall, and with curiosity getting the better of me, I peeked through the opening.

With his arms extended above his head, Guthrie’s bulky frame was hanging off the far wall, as he manically thrust his hips into what I could only surmise was another hole. I watched entranced as his hairy arse twitched excitedly. After a while, his head flew back as he began grunting loudly. I quickly exited the stall and decided to use the urinal after all. During my piss, a young redneck passed by me before leaving the restroom. Once done, I also departed and stood outside.

After Guthrie walked out of the ablution block, there was a large piss stain on the crotch of his jeans. Guthrie also had a self-satisfied look on his face, like the proverbial cat who had just got the cream, or in this case, supplied the cream. Next, we made our way back to his truck.

He then showed me his accommodation in the truck, after drawing back a curtain behind the front seats. There was a small area filled mostly by a double bed, and this is where he slept to save money on his trips. The one bedside table in this space was a small refrigerator. I still did not ask where I would be sleeping and presumed it would be in the front seats of the truck.

At seven, I offered to pay for his meal as a thank you gesture. He was rather impressed by my offer, and after we again entered the diner, we were soon enjoying a cheeseburger with fries. His table manners were appalling, but not out of place in this establishment.

Back in the truck, we sat on his bed and drinking beers, which he supplied from his bar fridge. Not long after, he said that we should hit the hay because he wanted to get going early the next day. Not sure about the sleeping arrangements, I must have looked like a recruit awaiting instructions. With a horny smile, he told me to strip and get into bed.

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“Yip, you can’t sleep on the front seats, they’re fucking uncomfortable!” he replied. With both of us wearing underpants, we were soon in bed. His underpants were even more soiled than his dirty t-shirt, and the bedding had a very well used odour. By now, Guthrie’s demeanour had become salacious, and I was sure that he was going to try to have sex with me, or so I hoped.

Facing me, with his head propped up on his arm, he asked, “Are we going to do this the easy way, or the hard way?” Observing my puzzled expression, Guthrie continued, “Dinner was great, but I only consider that a deposit... now I want payment in full. Besides, I always have dessert, and you didn’t buy me any.”

“Sorry?” I asked.

“With a pretty boy like you in my bed, well, a man’s got to do what a man’s got to do,” he replied.

“But, I’m not gay,” I answered, lying to him to try and heighten the tension. I wanted to see if he would coerce me as I had always imagined in my trucker fantasies.

“Don’t bullshit me, buddy. You haven’t been able to keep your queer eyes off my crotch for a second.” Guthrie dismissively answered, before adding, “Besides, I’m not into labels. For me, a fuck’s a fuck, and that’s what we’re going to do right now.”

I pretended that I was about to jump up when his massive hand pinned me down to my absolute delight.

“Listen, boy. If you want to do this the hard way, I’m all in. You’re going to get fucked tonight, and that’s that!” he stated matter-of-factly.

As he got to his knees, my underpants were ripped off me in a flash. With his other hand pinning my torso down, his knees pushed my legs apart. Then my pungent trucker slumped onto me, imprisoning my arms. As his salivating mouth closed in on my lips, I turned my head to the side in a faux gesture of refusal. After biting my ear, he said, “Give me your fucking mouth, or I will bite your ear even harder.”

I had never been more stimulated in my life, as the trucker fucker fantasy got underway. I also hadn’t had a good fuck for some time and had never gotten coerced into sex before. Spontaneously, I decided to fuel the aggression even further and let Guthrie revel in the control he had over me.

“No, fuck you,” I overdramatically squealed as he bit down hard on my ear.

“Stop, please stop,” I begged, now fully into my thespian ploy.

“Then give me your mouth, boy,” he roared.

As I slowly turned my head, his hairy hole clamped onto my lips. Pursing my lips, I then clenched my teeth as part of the charade and wouldn’t allow him access. Grabbing a fistful of my hair, he then yanked like crazy. After demanding my full attention in this manner, my mouth gave up its ‘stubbornness’ as a tobacco-flavoured slug invaded my lips. Guthrie’s onslaught was manic as his horny grunts reverberated in my throat. As Guthrie’s hips began to stir, I felt his rock-hard knob smashing into my genitals. Both his hands then moved to my head, which he parenthesized firmly before my mouth was transformed into a slime-pit by his wet grunts. It was heavenly!

After lifting his head, he then said, “That’s a good boy, now, you’re my fuckin’ bitch,” as his underpants disappeared off his body before being stuffed in my mouth.  

My respite was short-lived before he again continued his swampy onslaught all over my head. After a lengthy oral besieging, Guthrie lifted off me and spun my body around, before removing his underpants from my mouth and pulling it over my head.

“Please don’t, pleeease,” I begged in an award-winning performance, as I inhaled the smell of stale piss, cum, and genital sweat encapsulating my head, adding to the masculine hum that was already permeating the bedding and room. My olfactory sense got overcome by the stale odour of testosterone sublimity. 

Ignoring my appeal, I felt his dick begin to nudge my butt-hole.

I wriggled like crazy to ‘fight’ his infiltration, only to get rewarded with three almighty slaps to my arse. “Do you want more?” he barked, as I continued wriggling before three more gratifying slaps followed.

“I’ll keep spanking till you lie still,” he continued. I hadn’t nearly had enough and continued to squirm. Several more slaps followed before he nestled on top of me. When his fat knob broke through my sphincter, my arse went numb. Naturally, I let out a wail. Unperturbed, he completed his infiltration. His humping now began in earnest, and as he thumped my backside, the stimulation became awesome. After a few hectic minutes, Guthrie held still in me.

Stammering lustfully, he said, “This hole of yours is so fucking tight… Fuck yeah, it’s my lucky day, baby.” His oral offensive then continued on my head as his underpants once more disappeared. Shortly, his hips began to grind again, but this time his jabbing was slower and much more measured. Overwhelmed by his stimulation, I began groaning like a whore.

Guthrie chuckled appreciatively before asking, “Is my baby enjoying daddy’s thick cock?” I did not answer, feigning disinterest.

“I can see through your bullshit, baby, I know you love this,” he concluded, as his icky hands slapped my face.

Unmasked, I sighed with contentment. As he changed his pace, the pleasure just kept mounting. When Guthrie finally lifted onto his outstretched arms, his exaggerated thrusting took me over the edge. With my body shuddering, I began to unload on his sheet. He followed shortly, shooting his blue-collar seed into my arse.

Upon collapsing back onto my body, he asked, “Did you cum, baby?”

After a pause, I confessed my sin. Guthrie then lifted his body and instructed me to turn over. The fight had left me, and when he again began kissing me, I capitulated entirely. As I felt his hardness return a while later, he instructed me to pull my legs back. I did as instructed before round two got underway. Guthrie then really got into stride and fucked the life out of me. I had become entirely inebriated by his masculine stench by this point.

As I wallowed in his griminess, Guthrie finally shot his load all over my stomach. After smearing his spunk into my torso, I licked his hands and genitals clean, before he gave my head another gob-wash with his thick tongue. I then surprised Guthrie by asking if I could lick his armpits, having become enraptured by the griminess of my ordeal. The noises he made as I did so were unearthly, and I did not think he was ever going to allow me to stop. After repositioning his body as I licked, I felt my third anal raid get underway. Guthrie howled as he speared into me with more impetus than he had done before. Finally, when he unloaded a final time, we lay in a marsh of perspiration. We slept like babies after that.

We had a quickie the following morning before we departed, and he also insisted on two more blowjobs before we arrived in Dallas.

Once in Dallas, he asked me when I planned to return home. Guthrie suggested that if I could leave a day earlier, he would be heading in my direction on another trip. He then gave me his number and told me to call him if I changed my plans.

Several days later, I found myself in Guthrie’s truck heading home. When I began sucking him off, we both smiled joyfully, contemplating the two nights that lay ahead before I reached my destination.