Sometimes a guy's just got a little too much time on his hands. His mind starts working overtime, and he just has to take that short ride down the highway to see whats going down at the truck-stop. Thats the way it was today - time on my hands, fire in my loins.
Where better to head for, than the parkway glory hole, that tempting focal point for the passing, bikers, salesmen, and truckers. It's not the prettiest place I've ever seen, but it draws the right crowd, if you know what I mean.
The guy walked over to the urinal... releasing a long hot stream of pent up gold from the long drive south. Now the test. Would he head straight out the door and back into the truck? Or was he curious? The kind of guy who looks out for the opportunities that might turn up on a long distance, lonesome road trip? This time I was lucky, the fella stood at the urinal for a while, I guess taking in the scene, and checking out the landscape of the place. There were two bathroom stalls, one with the door closed (with me inside), the other with the door slightly open. After a short while I heard him move towards the empty stall.
The trucker fell to his knees and took a hold of my dick, I could feel his face real close to the end of my cock. As he stroked, I sensed his breath running the length of the fine veined skin of my tool, like a connoisseur checking a fine cigar before tasting it. His fist worked my dick with real skill, stroking, massaging, helping it to swell to bursting, engorged, throbbing, waiting for the intense pleasure to come.
The trucker, maybe married, maybe bi, or maybe one hundred percent homo - whatever the fella was into, one thing's for sure, he wasn't looking for no kissing. He he had one thing on his mind - he was a cock-sucker and he loved his work. From the second those warm lips touched the end of my dick I could tell this guy was an A-grade sucker - he was hungry for cock, and he was going to feast on me. And me? I was looking for that warm, wet, and expert mouth to work on my hard, veined shift stick, and drain a heavy load from these tied bloated bawls. Perfect match!
The soft warm interior of his mouth caressed every inch of my horse dick, sliding deep into the tight wet confines of his throat, his whole being was focused hard on giving me pleasure and skillfully building the intensity to new heights. Separation by the panel seemed to channel my entire energy through every artery, and every sinew to that eight inches of love meat projecting through the hole of glory, and into beautiful warm throat of the delivery guy.
It wasn't romance, but it sure felt good. This guy had done this many times before, he was a power sucker of the first order, working my dick like his life depended on it. Long, fast, and balls deep, this fella took the whole length, his mouth and throat taking the whole damn thing. His tongue worked overtime around the shaft and head, like a hot n' tender massage from a knowing therapist. I could feel the sap rising in my nuts. I needed to give up what I knew this guy wanted - hot, wet, seed, straight from the bull.
Not sure just what triggered it, maybe the anonymity, the intensity, or maybe the intimacy, but he got one hell of a cum rush out of me - pumping five or six deliveries deep into his throat, feeling it tighten around my dick as it the thick, hot, loads of man-juice hit home. As he took my spunk I heard him let our an almighty groan - he was shooting out a hot load too - I felt the partition shudder as his body flexed in orgasm, and heard the splat of his cream hitting the floor of the stall - man I could have used some of that!
The horned guy didn't stop there. He was a great finisher - the pair of us coming down gently from the highs of the orgasm as his tender tongue cleaned and caressed every sweet inch of my dick. He made sure his cock-sucking reputation was assured as he drained the last drops from my meat.