Truck-Stop 101

The lights from the truck stop brightened the parking lot, leaving Lauren feeling safe and secure as she walked across the ragged pavement. She reached up, stroked her hair, and then tugged on her blouse, hoping to smooth the creases. Her back ached from sitting in one position for too long. She'd been on the road for the last three and a half hours and the two 24 ounce bottles of Mountain Dew were now demanding release. She checked her watch, noted the time and opened the door to the normally rarely visited business.

Her gaze immediately went to the check-out counter, noting the familiar features of the retired fireman turned third-shift-truck-stop-attendant. "Hey Mike, talk to you in a bit!" she said as she dashed to the ladies room. Mike's "hi" back was followed by a chuckle, both of which Lauren heard, but ignored. She passed the Trucker's Lounge, an addition that Mike said would be finished when Lauren came through again. She barely spared it a glance, though mentally she promised to look later. Mike had been really excited about the new "state-of-the-art" equipment the owner had promised to install and she knew he would ask her about it when she was ready to check out.

Inside the ladies room, Lauren quickly relieved herself, sighing as her bladder thanked her. Once she was done using the restroom, cleaning her hands and examining her features, Lauren reached into her purse and took a moment to pamper herself. A few pumps of the paper towel dispenser gave Lauren enough paper to wash and later dry her face. The small Ziploc bag, she'd pulled from her purse, held her toothbrush, toothpaste and floss. She quickly brushed and then packed her hygienic items away. A hint of silver glimmered at the bottom of her purse. Lauren frowned, picked up the tube and then shrugged her shoulders.

"Why not?" she asked her reflection and applied a thin layer of light-bronze lip coloring to her full lips. She smacked them together, brushed her hair and stared at her reflection. A long drawn out breath left her lungs as she told herself she'd done all she could to look a little less sleepy.

Another quick glance at her watch told her she'd not wasted too much time in the restroom, so she had plenty of time to catch up with Mike. Lauren left the bathroom and walked back down the narrow hall in search of the old man. She passed the lounge again, yet spun around when she remembered her promise to look in on it.

Lauren stepped in, glanced briefly at the décor while letting her senses take in her surroundings. The room was dimly lit. A soft glow of a television screen aided the weak lighting. Lauren noted the figure of someone, presumably a trucker, sitting on a worn leather sofa. The television screen portrayed a well dressed man, sitting at a desk interviewing a small busty brunette who, in Lauren's opinion, was about to pop out of her blouse. Lauren rolled her eyes before resuming her survey of the room.

The scent of cigarette smoke hung thick in the air, as did the musky fragrance of cologne. She smiled at the familiar odors, odors she'd grown up with as a child. She closed her eyes and breathed deep. The pause in her reflection of the moment allowed her ears to pick up the faint sounds of moaning and grunting coming from the far corner of the room. Lauren opened her eyes and focused on the sound while turning toward it.

The man in the suit was no longer interviewing the young woman, at least not the way he had been when Lauren first walked in. Instead the dark-haired actor had the little woman on his desk, her stockings rolled down, and his tongue was leaving long promising licks against her flesh. Lauren glanced at the trucker on the couch, noting the way his body shifted slightly. Her eyebrows rose when she comprehended what the man was preparing to do. Quietly she turned, trying to make an unannounced exit to go along with her unannounced entrance.

"Hey! Miss Lauren!"

Lauren's eyes grew wide, her face grew flush; Mike stood in front of her.

"Brock, turn that shit off, Miss Lauren doesn't want to watch that."

Lauren bit her lower lip, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The sound of a muttered and shocked curse echoed behind her. She swallowed the lump in her throat, before turning around to face the man who had been on the couch. "Sorry; I didn't hear you come in." The stranger rose from his seat, tried to nonchalantly adjust his crotch, failed miserably, choosing instead to simply shrug his shoulders.

"Miss Lauren you take a gander at the new digs. I have to take a shit and well... I'll be in there a while. I locked up so don't worry about customers. Ol' Pete will never know," Mike told her then nodded toward Brock. "Brock this is Miss Lauren, she comes in here once every three months on her way back from Louisville. You be a gentleman to her."

Brock frowned, but agreed to Mike's demand. Lauren wanted nothing more than to leave, but she knew Mike would want to talk with her when he was done with business. She watched the old man make his way to the Men's room, leaving her to face Brock alone.

"Sorry about...," Brock nodded toward the television.

Lauren immediately lifted her hand. "No, don't worry about it. I'm sorry I intruded. Like Mike said, I stop over here on my way back from Louisville every three months. He'd been talking his ear off about this lounge Pete was adding and I had promised him I'd look at it when I came back through."

"Ahh, well this is it." Brock swept his hand around the room. "Feel free to look around, it's pretty standard, though I will admit it's homey and comfy, something truckers miss when they are on the road for days on end."

Lauren watched Brock turn away and make his way back to the couch, soon the television was on again; this time I Love Lucy reruns lit up the screen. Lauren chuckled, but took the brief tour around the room, making note of the lack of a feminine touch, something that didn't surprise her. When she was finished she found a place to sit, a plaid-covered chair just off to the side of Brock's couch.

Minutes seem to pass as Lucy laughed in her "Lucy way". Lauren grew restless; the image she'd seen on the screen prior to her discovery teased her senses. She shifted in her seat. A long sigh reached her and she looked at Brock; she could tell he was annoyed with the show he felt forced to watch. "If you want, you can watch that movie. I need to get some stuff for the rest of the ride home." She rose quickly before Brock could respond, paused at the door and turned back. "It was nice meeting you," she said, not quite sure if she meant the words or not.

"Um...you too," she heard Brock say just as she left the room.

Lauren wasn't shocked or surprised to hear the sound of worn leather being adjusted as Brock, she assumed, got comfortable. Her suspicions were confirmed when the sound of lips on flesh whispered back into the room. "Picking up where he left off," she whispered to herself before walking back toward the part of the store where shelves were lined with various items for weary travelers and local residents.

It didn't take Lauren long to walk the aisles, and pick up a few items she wanted, and the few she needed. She placed them on the counter, glanced outside, noted her van was still where she parked it and once more found herself glancing at her watch. Mike still had not returned and the minutes were passing by too slowly to be ignored. Her imagination ran wild as she imagined Brock and the movie he was watching. Casually she made her way back toward the lounge and leaned just as casually against the entryway's frame.

The actor now lay on a bed, covers rumpled beneath him and his two partners. The sound and sights of the images made Lauren's breath quicken. She shifted on her feet as she watched, almost entranced as the brunette from the "interview" licked and sucked on a blond of equal beauty. Without knowing it a small whimper escaped her lips.

"Welcome back."

Lauren blushed. "Sorry, Mike's still..."

Brock laughed. "Yeah, I figured. The old man has issues, but he's okay." Brock glanced back at the movie, and again Lauren saw him adjusting himself.

"You don't have to put that away," she whispered before stepping further into the room. Once again a lump formed in her throat, she swallowed it before walking over to the couch where Brock sat. Her gaze traveled to his crotch. Her breath caught as she stared at the swollen cock that hung to the left. One of his hands was still wrapped around it, the hold loose.

"I mean..." She rolled her eyes. "I...I was thinking about that and it's been a while since I...," she bit her lip, "watched with someone and...if you don't mind. I mean, if you do I can leave. You know, never mind, I'll just go and..."

"Lauren. If you want to join me, then join me. Just don't be offended by what happens. I can watch more reruns."

She noted Brock's smirk, but also his raised brows. Lauren chewed on the inside of her cheek. The thought of getting back to the van and heading home played at the corner of her mind. She had responsibilities to see to, a boring existence, a stressful life, a sexual void...that was her life; that is what waited for her. Lauren smoothed her blouse down and sat on the other side of the couch. Her skirt rose slightly as she tried to get more comfortable under the intimate circumstances. Her gaze shifted nervously back to the television screen, where she tried to not be aware of anything but the actor and his partners.

Several agonizing minutes passed before Lauren found herself relaxing in Brock's presence. She knew that Mike was there, even if he was in the restroom. He wouldn't have left her alone with someone he didn't trust. As the movie played out and the erotic scenes of debauchery changed from various couples, to different positions, Lauren found herself growing aroused. Her fingers curled into fists; she shifted in her seat and her breath quickened. A quick glance tossed toward Brock was held firm when she caught him staring at her.

Lauren blinked, but could not turn away from his gaze. She licked her lips; her stomach churned and her pussy tingled. Brock's hand moved with skill over his own cock. Lauren watched. Her own hunger and desire grew rapidly as did her fear of what was to come. She rose, worrying inwardly about his rejection of her offer and what he would think of her. The thought of Mike catching them only drove her further toward her desire; perhaps it would be quick and he wouldn't know...no one would.

She stood in front of the television screen. The sounds of lip smacking pleasure echoed behind her. "It's been a long time Brock...ten years since I've...been with a man."

Brock's eyebrows rose, as his hand dropped his rigid member. Lauren felt his fingers slide over her thigh; they pressed against the back of the firm muscle, urging her forward. She went willingly. Fear of the unknown still fought with reality. Ten years, she told herself. Ten years. Lauren moved with the pressure of his hand. Her knees hit the couch. His hand moved up her leg, cupped her ass and caressed the flesh through the fabric of her panty.

"Why?" Brock asked, while his finger trailed around the panty edge. He paused at her crotch, letting one finger hook the fabric. The callused knuckle of the digit rubbed gently across Lauren's soft mound. "You've certainly got everything a man could want."

Lauren bit back the soft sob that longed to be heard. The story was exhausting to tell and she knew that if she told it the moment would be lost, and the event would never occur. Brock would most likely still be willing, but she knew deep in her heart she could not tell him the reason. Pity sex was the last thing she ever wanted...if she did, she could have had that from anyone. This was on her terms, not Brock's.

"Does it matter?" she asked before pulling her blouse from her skirt. Her fingers slid the buttons out of their homes one-by-open, while Brock's other hand moved under her skirt. She felt him tug on her panty. She stepped free of her shoes, and allowed him to pull the flimsy material away. The look on his face told her what he was thinking. If it had been ten years, then why was she wearing such erotic undergarments? Brock balled the red thong up and tucked it in the pocket of the jacket, which laid next to him. Lauren blushed, but said nothing of his confiscation. Instead she peeled off her blouse, reached behind her and unsnapped the matching bra. This she kept, a wink the answer to his smirk.

Brock hands quickly returned to Lauren's clothes. He pulled her skirt down; the thin elastic band widened easily for her slim hips and long legs. Lauren shivered from his open inspection of her assets. He reached out and curled his finger against her opening. "You're so wet," he whispered. She noted the way his voice had grown huskier. She nodded and felt her pulse race as his finger continued to slide in and out of the slick hole.

Instinctively Lauren's hips moved in time to the gentle invasion. She wanted more, but knew time was on her side for only so long. With a regret that was easy to recognize from the moan that left her lips, Lauren circled Brock's wrist with her fingers and pulled his hand away. She looked down at his hard cock. The light in the room highlighted the pre cum on his cockhead.

Lauren scooted closer, while Brock spread his legs further apart. He reached out and hooked her hips, pulling her onto his lap. "This okay?" he asked, looking at his own clothes still covering his flesh. Lauren whimpered "yes" was followed by a sigh of desire. "I can dress easier than you," she admitted. "And I don't really want to wait...if I wait I may change my mind. I don't want to change my mind," she confessed.

"Then let's get started," Brock answered. Lauren and Brock moved together, each shifting so the position was easier for the objective to be complete. Lauren straddled her lover; her knees slid into the couch's seat and Brock supported her weight as she lifted her body a few inches from his crotch. Her hands rested on the couch's back. She felt Brock's hand move between them and soon the head of his cock was against her pussy. She bit her lip, lowered herself onto him and welcomed the feeling of fulfillment that no toy had ever given her.

She closed her eyes, held still on the stranger's shaft, squeezed the member and heard the hungry growl of pleasure. "Oh God, it feels so wonderful," she whispered, not caring if Brock was enjoying himself or not. She simply needed to feel a real cock inside her and lock the sensation away. She knew she'd recall the event a thousand times before she ever found an opportunity like this again. Gently her hands moved to rest on his shoulders. She felt the worn material of his shirt under her palms. Unknowingly she massaged the muscle, while lifting herself up the length of his cock and sliding back down.

Brock gripped her hips, rocked her forward and then back, while lifting his ass up and then down. She felt his touch burning her skin. Her hips ground into his pelvis. The friction caused her to mutter and moan her delight. Their pubic hairs tangled as she ground herself deeper into him. Lauren's eyes remained closed as she pumped and drove, slow at first, then faster, only to slow herself down again. Brock's words of encouragement did little to add to the fantasy playing in Lauren's mind. She was in the past, a past that was full of fresh air, and warm nights. The fragrance of Brock's cologne added to her fantasy, she imagined being on a bed, covered in thick blankets. A man of great strength and power hovered over her as she willingly took his cock deep into her slick cavern.

The tug on her nipple brought Lauren back to the moment; she shook the image from her mind and captured that of Brock's mouth sucking greedily on her areola. One of her hands moved to the back of his head; anchoring him to her breast she bounced steadily on his dick, once more rewarding her sex with different levels of friction. Muscles clenched. Liquid oozed. Lauren felt her body begging for Brock's shaft to go deeper and further into her. There was a place she needed him to find, a place that had gone untouched since the accident. "Fuck me," she groaned, "fuck me please..." The words were spoken by a voice that reflected the need in her body.

Brock said nothing as he continued to taste her flesh. His mouth devoured one tit, then the other. Each nipple was treated to an assault of lips, tongue, teeth. "Ride me," he muttered, abandoning her hips to instead fully appreciate her breasts at the same time.

Lauren arched her back, pushed her hips further up his crotch, gained another inch of his shaft as her reward and used her body to plow her way toward oblivion. "Ohh, fuck yes," she screamed as her muscles clenched hard on the stiff tool. She covered Brock in her fluids. They splashed soundlessly against their sexes, mingling with the hairs that were still tightly wound together. "Tell me, tell me before you come," she quickly insisted, still stroking his shaft with her tingling cunt.

"I will...soon," he promised. Lauren felt the truth, and knew he would be honest with her. This act, this sinful act had worked out beautifully for her, why would it not now?

True to his word Brock called out to Lauren that he was going to come. Quickly she pulled her pussy off of him, dropped down to the floor of the lounge and swallowed the wet cock that noisily popped form her sex. Brock grunted in approval. She felt his hands in her hair, pulling her face down. She swallowed the full length, gagging, but refusing to give in to the natural fight. Instead she angled her head so the full mushroom tip could glide easily home. Over and over she sucked, licked, and swallowed flesh, until the reward was shot deep down her throat. She hungrily fed from Brock's dick, almost wishing it wasn't over.

When the pumping of his hips and the grip on her hair loosened, Lauren lifted her face from his lap and licked his balls. A smile formed on her wet mouth when his body shivered under her ministrations. A minute, perhaps two passed before Lauren rose from her kneeling position. She looked sheepishly at her unexpected lover, while licking her lips in appreciation for his gift. "Thank you," she whispered, before reaching for her discarded clothes.

The sound of whistling came somewhat muffled into the room. Lauren blushed, and tucked herself into a corner before Mike appeared at the doorway of the room. "Where's Miss Lauren?" he asked.

Lauren waited, her breath suspended in her throat.

"She went back to the bathroom, somethin' about too much coffee."

Lauren smiled at the answer, and remained where she was until Mike left, which was only a few seconds later. "Thanks again." She blushed a deep crimson shade as she felt Brock's eyes on her while she dressed. When she was fully clothed, minus her 'stolen' panties, she looked back at the man that had given her a great gift. "I..."

"There's nothing for you to say. Thank you was enough...and that goes from me too. Thank you."

She blushed further, but took her leave, eventually finding her way back to Mike's checkout counter. "Sorry I took so long," Mike told her, then indicated his interest back to the lounge, "nice set up ain't it? And Brock he's a pretty good guy. Hope you didn't mind spending too much time with him. I ate some Mexican food that just wasn't agreeing with me."

Lauren chuckled softly. "It's fine, and yes the lounge is very comfortable and Brock...he was a perfect gentleman."

"Good," Mike said. "He's been coming in here for a year now, around this time of night every three days. He's a divorced fella. Too many hours on the road to keep the wife happy. That's the life though."

She said nothing as she pulled her credit card from her wallet.