Trucker s Awakening
- 2 years ago
- 67
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Trucker Sex In A Rest Area free porn video
I was westbound on I-10 just east of Van Horn, and I had needed to piss since the I-10/I-20 split. I decided I was not going to make it to the truck stop in Van Horn, and set my sites for the rest area just east of there.
When I got to the rest area, I barreled into the parking area. My jakes screamed as I released the throttle. There were no four wheelers in the lot and only a few other big trucks, most likely down for the night. I set my brake and bailed out of the cab. This was not a smart thing to do. It’s quite a jump from the seat of a Peterbilt large car to the pavement, and when your feet hit the pavement, a shock wave jolts from your toes to your temples, including one to the bladder. I thought I was going to piss myself on the pavement. I clutched my crotch and hightailed to the restroom.
My jeans were unbuttoned and unzipped by the time I got to the door. At the urinal, I yanked my jeans down to my thighs and whipped out my dick. The relief from the release of my bladder was immeasurable. I didn’t think I was ever going to stop pissing.
Just as I was starting to shake the last drops from my cock, I heard the door open and a guy walked in. Then, I heard the guy’s feet falter, like he had stumbled. I turned to check that he was still on his feet. He was staring right at my ass. Wait, no, he wasn’t staring at my ass; he was staring at the ladies’ blue thong that was wedged in my ass! I hadn’t even thought about it when I yanked my jeans down.
“Are those panties,” he spat. “Are those fucking ladies fucking panties?” I felt my spine stiffen, and my eye twitched a bit. “Damn right, they are,” I shot back. “Fucking women’s fucking THONG fucking panties!” I squared my stance and looked him square in the eye.
“Oh… well… ok, then,” he stammered. He stepped to the urinal to my left, but his eyes remained on the thong wedged into my ass crack. As he pissed, he leaned back a bit to get a better look. “What do you think?” I asked.
Immediately, his eyes shot from my ass. “Think about what,” he grunted. “My panties,” I answered brazenly. “They feel so good; they make me horny as hell. What about you? You like them?”
“Um…well….uh…um…,” he stammered. He still stood at the urinal, cock in hand. “Hell, I guess I do. Just look at this shit.” He pivoted from the urinal to display his rigid cock, standing straight up out of his zipper.
I couldn’t tell if it was piss or pre-cum dripping off the end of his cock, so I decided to find out. I ran my finger over the tip and then brought it to my lips. Yep, pre-cum. He stared in amazement. “I guess, so,” I smiled. “You want a blow job?” I usually ask for a fuck, but settle for a blow job. But, since this guy seemed kind of jumpy, I figured I would go for the blow job and be happy if he said yes.
“Does anybody ever say, ‘No’ to that question,” he laughed. “Hell, yes I want a blow job; I NEED a blow job.” Instantly, I knelt before him. “Whoa,” he drawled. “Stand up here where I can see those pretty panties.”
I got back to my fit, adjusted my stance for better viewing and reach, bent at the waist and sucked his cock into my mouth. The foreskin was stretched tight, making it difficult to get my tongue into it or to skin it back. “Aw fuck,” he moaned as his cock slid down my throat. “I don’t get that too often.” His hands roamed the globes of my ass.
I continued to suck on his cock, working it with my lips, tongue, and throat. He offered several appreciative vocals as I worked him, mostly just noises. He wasn’t forming sentences at this point. All the while, his hands continued to explore my cheeks, my crack, and occasionally, my hole.
Eventually, I got my tongue worked into the foreskin, and, soon thereafter, skinned it back, freeing the smooth head. He was especially appreciative of this. His hands continued on my ass.
I sucked his cock for quite a while. I know it was a long time, because my neck, back and jaws were aching; my eyes were watering; my nose was running; and my mouth was getting dry. This had never happened to me before. I continued to work his cock until I just couldn’t take it any longer.
“Driver, I’m done. I can’t do you any good.” I admitted. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I can’t suck that dick anymore.”
“Bull shit,” he spat, “You’ve got me this far, you got to get me the last mile.” “I can’t, driver. I’m so fucking sore, I can barely stand. I can’t do it.” “Bull shit!” he spat again, angrily. “You’re going get this load out of me.”
He lurched at me, grabbing me by the shoulder and pinning me against the metal wall of the stall. His forearm was against the back of my neck; his other hand held me at the waist; and one knee was planted firmly in my lower back.
He removed the hand from my waist and plucked the thong from my crack. He stretched it to the side, over the cheek of my ass. He worked up a generous amount of spit and rubbed it into my hole. His cock still had plenty of my spit on it.
As his fingers rubbed my ass, I felt a burning heat sear through my body. I wanted him in my ass so badly. He placed the head of his cock at my ass and pushed. All at once, he shoved his cock deep into my ass. “Umpf!” he grunted.
He pushed so hard that my pelvis crashed into the stall; I was against the stall from face to knees. He kept his forearm against my neck to keep me there. He began to fuck me.
I couldn’t help myself. I wanted him to fuck me so bad, my hips jerked back to meet his thrusts. He pumped into me a few more times. “You trashy little truck stop whore,” he almost sang, “This is what you wanted from the start.” “Yes,” I hissed. “Yes. Fuck me. Fuck me and breed me and, then fuck me some more.”
“You trashy fucking slut!’ he accused. “I AM going to fuck you and breed you, and I might just fuck you some more. You need a good fucking.” And he gave it to me in spades. He kept his forearm at the back of my neck, and wrapped the other tightly around my waist. He pulled me to him with every thrust, and I helped by pushing back to meet him.
The arm against my neck shot to waist, and he bear hugged me, pulling me closer to him, burying his cock further into me. He bent his knees, almost so that he was underneath me, and pushed up with his cock as he pulled down on my pelvis. He ratcheted his cock into me as he came.
I felt the vein on the underside of his cock pumping his cum into my ass. With each squirt, he pushed harder. I could feel his cock against my prostrate, my k**neys, and maybe even my liver. It was incredible. Eventually, his cock stopped pumping, and he held onto me very tightly for a few moments. Then, he slowly withdrew his cock from my very satisfied ass. Just as the head popped out of my hole, he rammed it back in, harder and further than I thought possible. My hands gripped the top of the stall; I raised myself onto my toes, and I coated the wall with my juice. His cock was still rock hard as my ass clamped down on it with each volley that shot out of my dick.
We stood there another few moments, with his cock buried in my ass as my cum ran down the wall. Too soon, he pulled his cock from my dripping ass and stepped back. I bent to pull up my jeans. “Hold on, there, hand,” he instructed. “Step into that stall and strip them panties off; they’re going with me.” “ I’ll tell you what,” I offered, “Trade you; mine for yours.”
Without speaking, he kicked off his boots and pulled off his jeans and tightly-whitey’s in one motion, right there in the middle of the toilet. He rubbed them over his cock and balls, and then up and down my crack, pushing them into my hole. He stretched them over my head and around my neck. Then, he held out his hand expectantly. I, too, removed my boots, jeans and thong. I handed him the panties. He tucked them into his shirt pocket. “Priceless souvenir, right there,” he said, as he playfully tugged on his shorts d****d around my neck. He dressed and left.
I dressed and left right behind him. I watched as he crawled into his W-9. Before the cab light went out, he pulled my thong from his pocket and held them against his mouth and nose. I thought I was going to cream my jeans! I released my brake and eased out onto I-10. The smell of our scents wafted up from his underwear, still around my neck like an Olympic medal
When I got to the rest area, I barreled into the parking area. My jakes screamed as I released the throttle. There were no four wheelers in the lot and only a few other big trucks, most likely down for the night. I set my brake and bailed out of the cab. This was not a smart thing to do. It’s quite a jump from the seat of a Peterbilt large car to the pavement, and when your feet hit the pavement, a shock wave jolts from your toes to your temples, including one to the bladder. I thought I was going to piss myself on the pavement. I clutched my crotch and hightailed to the restroom.
My jeans were unbuttoned and unzipped by the time I got to the door. At the urinal, I yanked my jeans down to my thighs and whipped out my dick. The relief from the release of my bladder was immeasurable. I didn’t think I was ever going to stop pissing.
Just as I was starting to shake the last drops from my cock, I heard the door open and a guy walked in. Then, I heard the guy’s feet falter, like he had stumbled. I turned to check that he was still on his feet. He was staring right at my ass. Wait, no, he wasn’t staring at my ass; he was staring at the ladies’ blue thong that was wedged in my ass! I hadn’t even thought about it when I yanked my jeans down.
“Are those panties,” he spat. “Are those fucking ladies fucking panties?” I felt my spine stiffen, and my eye twitched a bit. “Damn right, they are,” I shot back. “Fucking women’s fucking THONG fucking panties!” I squared my stance and looked him square in the eye.
“Oh… well… ok, then,” he stammered. He stepped to the urinal to my left, but his eyes remained on the thong wedged into my ass crack. As he pissed, he leaned back a bit to get a better look. “What do you think?” I asked.
Immediately, his eyes shot from my ass. “Think about what,” he grunted. “My panties,” I answered brazenly. “They feel so good; they make me horny as hell. What about you? You like them?”
“Um…well….uh…um…,” he stammered. He still stood at the urinal, cock in hand. “Hell, I guess I do. Just look at this shit.” He pivoted from the urinal to display his rigid cock, standing straight up out of his zipper.
I couldn’t tell if it was piss or pre-cum dripping off the end of his cock, so I decided to find out. I ran my finger over the tip and then brought it to my lips. Yep, pre-cum. He stared in amazement. “I guess, so,” I smiled. “You want a blow job?” I usually ask for a fuck, but settle for a blow job. But, since this guy seemed kind of jumpy, I figured I would go for the blow job and be happy if he said yes.
“Does anybody ever say, ‘No’ to that question,” he laughed. “Hell, yes I want a blow job; I NEED a blow job.” Instantly, I knelt before him. “Whoa,” he drawled. “Stand up here where I can see those pretty panties.”
I got back to my fit, adjusted my stance for better viewing and reach, bent at the waist and sucked his cock into my mouth. The foreskin was stretched tight, making it difficult to get my tongue into it or to skin it back. “Aw fuck,” he moaned as his cock slid down my throat. “I don’t get that too often.” His hands roamed the globes of my ass.
I continued to suck on his cock, working it with my lips, tongue, and throat. He offered several appreciative vocals as I worked him, mostly just noises. He wasn’t forming sentences at this point. All the while, his hands continued to explore my cheeks, my crack, and occasionally, my hole.
Eventually, I got my tongue worked into the foreskin, and, soon thereafter, skinned it back, freeing the smooth head. He was especially appreciative of this. His hands continued on my ass.
I sucked his cock for quite a while. I know it was a long time, because my neck, back and jaws were aching; my eyes were watering; my nose was running; and my mouth was getting dry. This had never happened to me before. I continued to work his cock until I just couldn’t take it any longer.
“Driver, I’m done. I can’t do you any good.” I admitted. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I can’t suck that dick anymore.”
“Bull shit,” he spat, “You’ve got me this far, you got to get me the last mile.” “I can’t, driver. I’m so fucking sore, I can barely stand. I can’t do it.” “Bull shit!” he spat again, angrily. “You’re going get this load out of me.”
He lurched at me, grabbing me by the shoulder and pinning me against the metal wall of the stall. His forearm was against the back of my neck; his other hand held me at the waist; and one knee was planted firmly in my lower back.
He removed the hand from my waist and plucked the thong from my crack. He stretched it to the side, over the cheek of my ass. He worked up a generous amount of spit and rubbed it into my hole. His cock still had plenty of my spit on it.
As his fingers rubbed my ass, I felt a burning heat sear through my body. I wanted him in my ass so badly. He placed the head of his cock at my ass and pushed. All at once, he shoved his cock deep into my ass. “Umpf!” he grunted.
He pushed so hard that my pelvis crashed into the stall; I was against the stall from face to knees. He kept his forearm against my neck to keep me there. He began to fuck me.
I couldn’t help myself. I wanted him to fuck me so bad, my hips jerked back to meet his thrusts. He pumped into me a few more times. “You trashy little truck stop whore,” he almost sang, “This is what you wanted from the start.” “Yes,” I hissed. “Yes. Fuck me. Fuck me and breed me and, then fuck me some more.”
“You trashy fucking slut!’ he accused. “I AM going to fuck you and breed you, and I might just fuck you some more. You need a good fucking.” And he gave it to me in spades. He kept his forearm at the back of my neck, and wrapped the other tightly around my waist. He pulled me to him with every thrust, and I helped by pushing back to meet him.
The arm against my neck shot to waist, and he bear hugged me, pulling me closer to him, burying his cock further into me. He bent his knees, almost so that he was underneath me, and pushed up with his cock as he pulled down on my pelvis. He ratcheted his cock into me as he came.
I felt the vein on the underside of his cock pumping his cum into my ass. With each squirt, he pushed harder. I could feel his cock against my prostrate, my k**neys, and maybe even my liver. It was incredible. Eventually, his cock stopped pumping, and he held onto me very tightly for a few moments. Then, he slowly withdrew his cock from my very satisfied ass. Just as the head popped out of my hole, he rammed it back in, harder and further than I thought possible. My hands gripped the top of the stall; I raised myself onto my toes, and I coated the wall with my juice. His cock was still rock hard as my ass clamped down on it with each volley that shot out of my dick.
We stood there another few moments, with his cock buried in my ass as my cum ran down the wall. Too soon, he pulled his cock from my dripping ass and stepped back. I bent to pull up my jeans. “Hold on, there, hand,” he instructed. “Step into that stall and strip them panties off; they’re going with me.” “ I’ll tell you what,” I offered, “Trade you; mine for yours.”
Without speaking, he kicked off his boots and pulled off his jeans and tightly-whitey’s in one motion, right there in the middle of the toilet. He rubbed them over his cock and balls, and then up and down my crack, pushing them into my hole. He stretched them over my head and around my neck. Then, he held out his hand expectantly. I, too, removed my boots, jeans and thong. I handed him the panties. He tucked them into his shirt pocket. “Priceless souvenir, right there,” he said, as he playfully tugged on his shorts d****d around my neck. He dressed and left.
I dressed and left right behind him. I watched as he crawled into his W-9. Before the cab light went out, he pulled my thong from his pocket and held them against his mouth and nose. I thought I was going to cream my jeans! I released my brake and eased out onto I-10. The smell of our scents wafted up from his underwear, still around my neck like an Olympic medal
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