Alabama Mama and the Trucker

Hell, I was sweating. The steering wheel was almost unbearable to the touch; the cab of my truck was like an overheated sauna. Even though the single lane highway had a few gentle curves I was definitely feeling that mind numbing ache you get watching the grey tarmac edged with worn yellow line snaking past you. Scrub bordered the roadside, occasionally broken by a hesitant treeline. A green sign loomed up ahead. "Welcome to Alabama, The Beautiful." it proudly announced. I began to look for a truckstop.

There was a sense of unreality seeping into my mind. Three months ago I was in my home country driving up and down the M1 motorway in England in the cold and wet, now I was sitting high up in a Kenworth rig. In the heat and glaring sunshine. And feeling more than a tad bored! I had listened in to the CB with interest and amusement, but now that had gone quiet. And even the sexual fantasies that had occupied my mind were fading, although the vibes through the seat had kept my erection moderately active!

As I rounded a curve in the road I could see ahead of me what looked like a gap in the shoulder where I could pull in and rest. As I slowed and parked up I noticed a track leading from the shoulder through a gap in the bushes to where a cluster of tin roofs showed over the leafy tops. Perhaps I could get some refreshment there. The air line hissed as I engaged the parking brake, and taking the keys I climbed stiffly out from the cab.

By the time I reached a sort of clearing I was feeling a bit cooler as a breeze from the trees wafted round me. I could smell cooking ahead, and my mouth watered. I walked into the clearing and looked around. There was a huddle of rough concrete, one storey buildings scattered any old way around the open space, A few black kids were tossing an old basketball up into a rusty hoop fastened to the wall of one of the shacks. They stopped playing, one by one, as they realised a total stranger had walked in on them. A WHITE stranger!

The sudden silence alerted the occupants of the shacks there was something happening. Here and there a face appeared at the glassless windows, and from some of the doors people came out and stared at me. They were all black, and I realised I was an Englishmen in Alabama! I began to feel a bit scared at the way they looked at me. Not overly hostile, but sure not friendly either. Just as though a film of gauze had appeared between us. I looked around to see if I could run back to my truck.

"What you want?"

(There's no way I can write their speech as spoken, so I will just put it standard English. You can add the accent yourself!)

The voice, not loud, but with a husky, velvety tone, came from a woman, probably in her fifties, who had appeared from the biggest shack. I looked at her, trying to keep my voice and stance calm.

"Just looking for something to drink, maybe," I answered.

She just looked at me for what seemed like an age, probably less than half a minute in truth.

"You're in luck," the woman said, "sit down on that chair an' I'll get a drink for you. It'll cost you."

"Thanks," was all I could think to say right then.

She disappeared back into her shack, and returned a minute later with a bottle of Coke. I put the bottle to my lips and steadily drank it down. Hell, that felt better! Handing the empty bottle back, I put my hand into my jeans pocket for the few dollars I kept there.

"No money, man, no money," she said, "just a little job you can do."

For some reason, the surrounding folk found this immensely funny.

"Sure," I answered, but a twinge of worry returned at their laughter. I hardly noticed that some of the men were now standing around in a way that blocked my route back to the truck.

The woman turned to a boy next to her.

"Go tell Velma we've one here wants to try to settle a little debt."

The boy ran into the house and came back with a woman. I couldn't help staring a bit. Black, like all the others, she was about 30 years old, six foot tall, wearing a T-shirt and shorts that looked like they had originally been bought small, and shrunk in the wash... Her largish, slightly saggy tits and big nipples had moulded themselves to the cotton material, and the crotch of the shorts accentuated the lips of her fanny and the crack between. Even sideways on I could see she had a high round ass, sticking well out. Her feet were bare, her hair tied round her head in coiled dreadlocks.

She wasn't what you could call fat, but definitely big all round. She might have been just a normal, fat butt woman you would look at, and then forget. Except the mouth was surrounded by plump lips that were caked in a thick layer of bright red lipstick. Against the shiny black of her rounded face the effect was almost clown-like! Somehow, instead of laughing I found her appearance slightly frightening.

"This is my girl, Velma," the older woman said. "She always wanted to be fucked by a white man. And now you come here."

Well, that put it on the line, straight and narrow. I really didn't know what to say. You couldn't write a story like this. Except this was no made-up porno script, I was actually in this unbelievable situation. My silence, from surprise and shock, really, angered the mother. And threatening sounds came from the surrounding group.

"You don't want my girl?" There was a direct threat in the tone.

"I, I was just surprised," I managed to get out, sure, she's a good looking girl."

The girl's bright red lips opened in a happy smile. The thought came to me that this girl wasn't completely right in the head. But my answer seemed to calm the situation some. Velma turned round, almost with a skipping movement and almost danced back into the house, tits bouncing wildly, and her ass cheeks trying to burst out of those over-tight shorts. Mother grasped my wrist and pulled me with her, up the broken steps into the smelly dimness of the shack. I admit I was worried. Things being what they were, I was secretly terrified I wouldn't be able to get hard. Then, what would the consequences be?

Her mother let go my wrist, dropped back a little and shoved me powerfully into the room. As my eyesight cleared, I could see Velma standing in front of me, her back towards me, but her face twisting over her shoulder. In the gloom, the garish red mouth was not so glaring. Even so, I could see a huge smile on he face as she struggled to force those shorts over the bulbous ass cheeks and down her legs. AS she dragged her foot out of the shorts, the movement caused her big black ass to rise even higher, and as she spread her legs I could clearly see the prominent pubic mound protruding downwards.

A slight pink gap opened between her fanny lips, and despite my concern I felt my cock start to come to life. Well, when I see a huge, naked black ass pointing at me, and an opening fanny, nature just takes over! As Velma wriggled her hips, setting her ass cheeks swaying, my cock decided it was ready for action. The tingling sensation along the artery, till my glans felt almost painfully tender, assured me that I could perform. Truth be told, by now I was so hot, I had almost forgotten anyone else was within a mile of us!

"It aint the biggest I seen, no way, but it'll do."

I hadn't realised Mom was still there, and I began to say something.

"I wanna make sure my girl gets what is promised," she threatened.

I shrugged my shoulders. I'd never performed in public before, this was a new experience. Anyway, the whole thing was so unreal, it didn't matter. I didn't even resent the fact that Mom was less than impressed by my average thick 7-incher. If what they say about black men is true, her comment was probably right anyhow. I pulled at the waistband of my jeans and shorts and slipped them down just far enough for my cock to rise up and out.

"If Velma is ready, so am I," I assured her mother.

I moved forward, my cock slightly swinging as I did so. I let my cock head slide between Velma's crotch, to judge exactly where her hole would be ready for the tip of my aching hard-on. I felt the coarse pubic hairs rasp against to top length of my shaft as I pulled slowly backwards, sensing the coating of wetness... Putting one hand underneath my pole, I raised it just enough to feel the hot wetness between Velma's crack against my cock-end.

I started to push. She surely was no virgin, but from the resistance I got, it was obvious Velma hadn't had anything through there for some time. With a slight jerk, my cock-end broke through the resistances and wormed its way through the firm, hot and wet ripples of her cunt. I got about five inches inside before those large, round ass cheeks smacked against my belly. I bent my knees slightly forward and my back to the rear. Her ass being so high, I could now move further in, and so I did, until my balls jammed against her now swollen clit.

She jumped at that, then gave that girlish giggle and wriggled her ass. The weight of those cheeks squashed against my thighs as I held myself inside her strongly. Truthfully, I could happily have stayed in that position for far longer, the multiple sensations of squeezing my cock in her cunt, and her ass squashing against my thighs, well, I got to admit I was enjoying myself! Still I had a job to do! So I got on with it. Slowly at first, speeding up a little at a time, I pumped in and out of Velma's cunt, my cock almost coming out each time.

From the frequent giggles and little wriggles, I could tell that Velma was enjoying having her fantasy realised. But, although I was beginning to get tired, Velma showed no sign of coming to orgasm. The long drive, the heat and my exertions were telling on me, and I had now been pumping her for a good fifteen minutes. Without intending it, I stretched my legs rigid so much I was on tiptoe and in so doing forced her ass cheeks even higher. Luckily, I was fully inside her at the time, so my enforced short strokes kept us pretty much in position.

I guess the new position forced her clit downwards in almost constant contact with my balls. At any rate, to my relief, the giggles were changing into little whimpers, and her wriggled changed into attempts to hump back and forward against me. I struggled to stay in that position, short, fast hammer strokes that barely moved an inch in or out. Velma's arms were flailing around d, and I caught her hands, dragging her arms back wards. Now, the only movement was what play allowed by her fleshy ass cheeks.

My cock was screaming for release and I could hold myself no longer. My cum forced its way out and I thought my cock was going to explode with the red-hot sensation. Despite the heat in that little room, shudders racked me, my eyes were screened shut in near agony and I yelled out in climax. Dimly, through the roaring in my ears I vaguely heard Velma screeching as she, too hit her orgasm. Even as my climax subsided I felt the sheer agony at the tip of my cock as her cunt muscles, and the downward spasm of her cervix screwed against that ultra sensitive end of my poor meat.

I released some of the pressure I was holding her arms with and managed to pull fractionally away from that cruel cervix. We stayed in that position, still tightly held together until the pain that has racked my whole body once again resolved into pleasure. My shirt was soaking wet with my sweat, and the thin cotton T-shirt Velma was wearing turned almost transparent with her exertions. I let go of her arms and pulled right out of her.

I staggered back, and dropped into a rickety old chair nearby. Velma sank to her knees, our mixed juices trickling down her ample thighs, glistening a little as a ray of light from the window caught her figure.

"Fuck me, you done good," came a voice from the doorway. Looking round I saw Mom there with what passed for a smile on her face, as she massaged her own clit through the dress.

"Thanks," I gasped, still trying to catch my breath.

"Don't suppose you got any left fer me," she continued, then laughed at the shocked expression on my face. "OK, have a drink."

I don't know what was in the tin cup she gave me, but it sure hit the right spot. I coughed and gasped as the alcohol bit home. I felt myself coming to myself. After a minute or two I pulled myself together enough to drag my jeans and short back up over my sagging cock, and stood up.

"I've really got to be moving on," I said, in a questioning voice.

"Go, man, an if you're this way again be sure to look us up."

I grinned, and nodded my head as I went out into the glorious sun shine. It took a good few minutes to get through the crowd of folks all gathered in that clearing, everyone actually wanted to slap my back, or even shake me by the hand. I felt like a TV star with his adoring public. I laughed inwardly at the thought. Well, it had been a very public performance!

Made it back to my Kenworth, and climbed up, with some difficulty as my legs were still a tad wobbly. I set off, fairly slow, which was lucky I did. A couple of hundred yards down the road, just round a curve in the road, I nearly hit a woman standing in the road. I hit the brakes, coming to a stop a few feet away from the woman. She had put her hands up to face, but as she took them down I saw with surprise it was Velma! Couldn't not recognise that wide red painted mouth.

I looked out of the cab window. Velma looked back up at me.

"I wan to come with you," she pleaded. "I got some clean clothes here in this bag."

My first instinct was to refuse of course, as gently as I could. The red lips quivered slightly, and the pathetic look in her black eyes affected me. Sympathy, mixed with some carnality changed my mind. After all, she was an adult in years, so why not? Especially as I several long nights to sleep out before I dropped my load. And I had to come back this way. I reached over and opened the passenger door. She struggled, but managed to climb up and shut the door.

She settled into the seat and looked round at me with a massive smile on her face. I still wasn't sure about her state of mind, but as I'd fucked her already, what was a few more times?

There's not much more to tell, although it had a funny happening. For the rest of the trip she would climb over into the bunk behind us every night when I pulled over, strip off her T-shirt and shorts, lay back and enjoy a good fucking until we both fell asleep. I did drive back that way, and dropped her off exactly where I picked her up. What her Mom would do I never found out, but I reckon she would just be glad her odd daughter had had an experience to keep her child-like mind happy as she drifted back into her own little fantasy world.

And the funny incident? Well, I was only one day out from the village when a cop car siren screamed behind me. Turned out Velma's Mom had finally worked out what her daughter had done and called the cops. Velma stuck her head out the window.

"You OK?" asked the officer, with his hand on his gun.

It hadn't really been necessary to wait for an answer, the sheer excitement on Velma's face told its own story. The cop looked at Velma, then at me, and back at Velma again. Surprise at her odd appearance, and something like amusement as he looked at me flashed across his features, then he grinned, holstered his piece, and walked back to the car. I guess he thought either, or both of us were crazy, but what the hell? None of his business.

I spent another six months in the States before returning home to the UK, with a fair wad of dollars to my name. I never told this story to anyone here, who would believe me. But it had been an interesting trip.