TRUCK STOP

Hazel, dirty blonde hair,

I wouldn’t be seen with you anywhere.

-Bob Dylan-

ONE

At first it was only snowing. Jack had dumped her on the side of the road on some fucked-up highway in the middle of nowhere. It had probably been half-an-hour ago, though she didn’t wear a watch so had to guess, and only two pairs of lights had driven by at like 80 miles an hour. It was two or three in the morning. She pulled the thin coat Jack had got her at Goodwill in San Diego after he’d got the news to take the next trailer north to Minneapolis. It was a quilted coat but too thin to keep her warm in the wind and too old to repel moisture. And then the snow turned to sleet and she could feel the cold dampness soak to her flesh. She shivered.

There was nothing for it but to start walking. If she didn’t the cold would kill her by morning. In the pitch black she tripped and stumble over unseen highway debris. Cans and bottles, some broken with shards, paper bags with fast-food logos filled empty Styrofoam boxes, strips of rubber tires with their wire firmament poking through. The road in front of her glowed. For a moment she thought she was hallucinating, or maybe it was the Northern Lights. Then she realized it was another vehicle coming up behind her but still too far for her to hear. The light grew brighter and she heard the bass engine of a rig. She stepped farther from the roadway in anticipation of the slipstream as it burst by her.

Even before it overtook her the truck started slowing, but it was still doing fifty as it passed. The driver wasn’t breaking hard to keep straight on the slippery road. It slowly drifted off onto the shoulder and stopped about a quarter-mile ahead. She hefted the loose strap of her knapsack around her shoulders and broke into a steady jog. About three minutes later she reached the truck and prayed it wouldn’t start to pull off. That had happened too many times before to count, a sick joke that had never made her laugh. Her luck held out, and in fact the passenger door popped open. She clambered up into the cab.

Immediately she took inventory of the driver and the truck’s interior. She’d done this enough times in the last two years that this first scope could tell her a lot of things, what to expect and what was to be expected of her. The driver was in his late forties or early fifties, white receding hair and a baseball cap. Wore a leather jacket with a Cubs logo. Wedding ring pinching fat fingers on calloused hands. No cigarette smoke and the ashtray was shut. Above it a bumper sticker that read “Jesus is Lord.” Looked like a Bible sticking up between the seats with the sets of maps. No music playing, but a box of cassettes was fixed in front of the gearshifts and was a fair mix of country and gospel.

“Thank you, sir,” she said in her little girl voice and exaggerating her Southern drawl. The driver shifts into first and carefully pulls off the shoulder on to the highway. He rides up through the gears until the truck reaches cruising speed on the empty highway.

“Now what were you doing out on the highway and at three thirty in the morning, little lady?” he asked slowly but keeping her eyes on the road.

“I got dumped out there, sir. . ..” She also stares ahead into the gloom of the night, the sleet slapping and sticking to the windshield, blinking her big brown eyes. “I was hitchhiking and got this ride. But when we got out in the middle of the nowhere he tried . . . well he tried to make me do things. But I wouldn’t. He got angry and threw me out on the side of the road.” She sniffled and forced a tear to run down her right cheek.

“You shouldn’t be hitching missy,” ordained the driver glancing at her to see if she took in this missive. “How old are you anyways?”

“Seventeen,” she lied, taking a couple of years off her real age knowing that innocence could be her saving grace and that she could fool for seventeen.

“What are you doing on the road in the first place?” Not for the first time she had some inkling of what it is like to be in a confession booth. With the blackness of the night the cab feels like a box, just there’s no screen separating her from the driver.

“I ran away from home. My step-dad. . .” she paused to let the ellipses explain that horror, that sin. “That was three months ago, and I went to California.” The Promised Land. “But it wasn’t what I expected. So I was trying to get back to Mom.”

“Where’s home?”

She thought for a moment before answering. She was somewhere in the mountain states heading east with a guy wearing a Cubbies jacket with a mid-Western accent. “Washington DC. Well, Reston.”

The driver nodded thoughtfully. “Well, we can take you as far as Chicago if that helps. And I think its best for you to ride with us than use that thumb. But then we’re heading home back to Rockford for a week of rest. Would that suit you?”

She nodded politely. “Yes sir. I’m most grateful.”

“What’s your name, missy?”

“Hazel.”

TWO

His curiosity satisfied Hank, for she found out that was his name later, drove mainly in silence. In the windshield she saw her reflection. Straw shoulder-length hair matted and wet, some sticking to her forehead and a strand on her stuck on her cheek. A small upturned nose still red from the cold. The mirror exaggerated her paleness. Her lips were full, almost puffy and anchored an oval face. Hazel found herself drifting off to sleep in the hot cab.

Hazel woke when the truck pulled into the parking lot. She was disoriented and then located where she was, at least in a generic sense, by the neon signs over the diner and promoting cheap gas and diesel. More shocking was the head poking between the seats. Platinum hair, clearly dyed, on top of a square face with crow lines around the eyes.

“Hank, I thinks she’s awake.” The voice was joyous compared to Hank’s serious monotone.

“Just in time for breakfast,” he noted.

“Hon, you awake?” The woman poked Hazel’s ribcage. “Hank’s told me about you. Glad we can help get you closer to home, praise the Lord.” She squeezed Hazel’s hand.

“We’re going to be stopping here for a few hours missy . . . Hazel,” she was told, “Get some food, a shower and some shuteye. And gas.” Hank rolled his eyes and the blonde woman grinned.

“You’ll be getting some home cooking soon Hank-baby,” she said and then turned to Hazel. “I’m Joanie. You look like you need a good breakfast, a shower and maybe run your clothes through the washer. We’ll be here about six, seven hours. Hank and I need a little R&R on a real bed.” Hank scowled at Joanie.

“Where’s here?” Hazel asked.

“Rawlings, Wyoming,” Joanie answered, “where they serve the best grits west of the Mississippi. A little southern comfort for girls like you and me.”

They ate breakfast at the truck stop. Hank ate a double portion of scramble eggs, bacon and hash browns, while the two women were moderate in their appetite. When they finished eating Hank paid the bill.

“I need some shuteye now,” he said with a sigh. “I know Joanie wants to shower and you probably do too. You can sleep in the truck-I left the passenger door open.” Joanie arched her thick eyebrows. “No, I guess you should have a real bed if we’re going to.”

Hank pulled open his wallet and gave Hazel thirty dollars. “That should cover a shower and a bunk for you.”

“Thank you sir,” Hazel responded, and made herself small and vulnerable.

Joanie and Hazel went to the shower room. Hazel stayed under the hot water until she felt her core warm to human temperature. She lathered her body with soap. She was thin, some might say anorexic. Her tits were small but the nipples tight and pink, and got pinker as she washed the soap off. Her hips were bony, and she thrust them forward to wash the sparse hair on her mons, and the nether lips she imitated them fucking. When she got out of the shower Joanie was almost fully dressed.

“I’m going to find Hank. We’re getting back on the road at one. Meet us in the diner, ok?”

Hazel nodded. As Joanie left and Hazel took the opportunity to wash some clothes. Still wrapped in the truck stop towel she rinsed all her clothes except the still damp jacket. She dried what she was going to wear, nylon panties and pink bra, under the hand-blower, then her tee shirt, a rag sweater and her jeans. Once she was dressed she dried the rest of her clothes, another set of underwear and two more tee shirts. She’d learnt to take the opportunity to do laundry. Even though it was cold she took off and packed her sweater into her bag. Since they weren’t that big the sweater hid her tits; they were much more perky pressing through the white tee.

Hazel sat on the bench and packed her spare clothes into her oily knapsack, and then counted her money. She had the thirty dollars Hank had given her, another six left over from Jack and maybe two more in change. She slipped them into her tight jeans and headed for the truck stop diner.

THREE

It was light when Hazel stomped through the ice across the parking lot. She didn’t have a watch; the blinking neon sign told her it was 7:42. When she walked into the diner she surveyed it for potential and then sat at the counter and ordered coffee, black and plain. Looking around the diner she soon focused on her targets. A black guy, with light complexion and a shaved head, maybe in his mid-thirties, and his partner who was about 25, receding hairline, and glasses. Hazel finished her coffee and then strode over to their table.

“Hi. I’m Hazel,” she introduced herself, “I’m looking for a ride.”

The two truckers looked up at her. Her clean jeans clung to her hips, which she jutted out and rested a hand on.

“Where to, baby?” asked the older man.

“Somewhere hot.” She looked him in the eye. Her coat was open, and underneath Hazel wore a white tee shirt that was tight over her breasts. Consciously she pushed her chest forward.

“Why don’t you sit down?”

Hazel slid into the booth next to him, pressing her thigh against his. He motioned a waitress and ordered a coffee for Hazel.

“We’re heading to Kansas City, and then got another contract for a rig to Houston,” he explained. “I’m Walter, but everyone calls me ‘Razor’”.

“Glad to meet you Razor. I’m Hazel. And your friend is?” Hazel sipped the coffee just being placed before her but was still too hot drink.

“Junior here is Cliff,” said Walter or Razor as he pushed a forkful of eggs and bacon into his mouth.

Hazel held her hand over the table and shaked Cliff’s.

“Is Houston hot enough for you?” Razor asked.

“Houston is hot enough for me, but what’s on the way. I don’t want to feel cold inside heading south.”

“I don’t think that’ll be a problem,” Razor answered winking at Cliff, “if you know what I mean.”

Hazel lifted the white porcelain cup to her lips and finished her coffee. “I think I know what you mean,” she said and licked the lip of the coffee cup.

FOUR

Razor unlocked the passenger door and helped Hazel into the cab of the truck with a brief but friendly push on the ass. He tossed the keys to Cliff.

“You drive,” Razor said.

“It’s not my turn.”

“I’m the boss here, Junior,” Razor said.

Hazel knew what was going to happen next, or at least sooner or later, and didn’t even make the pretense of sitting in the cab but immediately scurried into the bunk area. Razor was right behind her.

The truck’s engine started and Cliff grinded the gears into first and pulled it out of the parking bay and headed to the on-ramp of the Interstate. In the back of the cab Hazel lay on her back on the small mattress. Razor lay down beside her and ran his hand over her chest and cupped a breast. He bent over her and kissed her nipple through the fabric of her tee shirt and bra. Hazel’s hand crept up his thigh to his crotch; her fingertips grazed over his balls and found the outline of his semi-hard prick. She unbuttoned his pants and drew down the zipper of Razor’s jeans.

His cock flexed out from the opening. Hazel pulled it toward her mouth and placed her lips around its head. It was a nice cock, Hazel thought, hard, thick and muscular, and big-maybe an eight-incher. While she sucked on its tips she unbuttoned, unzipped and pulled down her own jeans, kicking them off when they hung on her ankles. With equal adeptness Hazel peeled off her panties.

When he was hard she pulled her mouth off it making a popping sound. Razor was sitting with his back against the wall of the cab. Hazel knelt between his legs and pulled down his pants so they bunched at around his knees. Carefully she sat on his lap, his cock mashed against her bush and pressing hard against her belly, and kissed his neck.

“You are a big boy,” she whispered huskily.

“Wait till you see Junior.” He easily lifted her small frame off his lap so she was poised above him. Hazel reached down and found his throbbing member and directed its head into the opening of her snatch. Carefully he lowered her hips and its length impaled her. Hazel closed her brown eyes and savored the throbbing gristle inside of her. Razor’s pelvis began to push into her, and taking his cue Hazel started to ride his cock by lifting herself from her knees that were astride his thighs. Razor smiled blissfully and peeled up her shirt and pawed her breasts. Hazel lifted the tee shirt over her face and tossed it over her shoulder. She unclipped the broach between the cups of her bra and the pink material fell away revealing her small firm breasts.

She shifted her weight to her nipples were close to Razor’s face and his cock slid over her clit. Like a baby he suckled her breasts and Hazel’s nipples felt like they were going to explode. His hardness began to pummel into her and she began to be rocked by tiny orgasms though each new one was bigger than the last. Hazel began to groan each time the flashes of pleasure pulsed through her body.

“Uh . . . uh . . . uh . . . uh. . . uh . . uh . . uh . uh . uh-uh,” she panted. Hazel held his shoulders for balance as Razor’s thrusts got more urgent. The whole eight inches slid in and out of her and with each impaling he was getting the head farther into her. His brown face started shaking from side-to-side.

“Shit yeah,” he implored as he exploded in her. Hazel could feel the white jism erupt from his black cock like molten metal into the already hot juices of her cunt.

“You alright back,” called Cliff from truck’s cab.

“Shit yeah,” Razor repeated but much slower this time.

FIVE

When Razor began to soften, still inside her, Hazel ground her pelvis against his. When that didn’t produce the desired result she slipped the limp piece of meat from between her legs and went down on him again. “Never leave them wanting more” was her motto, learned from experience of two years with truckers. Carefully she licked the juices, her own and the specks of salty semen that glittered on its length. Pretty soon Razor had another erection that he kept trying to stick down her throat. She repressed the natural gag reflex and took the whole length in her mouth. Her lips pressed into his black pubic hair. Razor’s cock slip against the roof of her mouth and the head was deep in her gullet.

Roughly he pulled her up and almost threw her onto her back. Kneeling between her legs he easily lifted her hips with one hand and with the other guided his member so it slid over her opening. His prick brushed over her clit and Hazel felt a tingle at the base of her spine. Without warning he crammed the whole thing into her. Her shoulders pressed into the thin mattress while Hazel’s pelvis was a foot higher and on the receiving end of the black man’s eight inch cock that easily slid out and rammed into her. His hands held her pelvis up while his thumbs stroked the lips that wrapped around his pricked. Each time they brushed against her clit Hazel’s quivers got a little larger. The little orgasms started erupting but were building to a fully blown climax. This Razor was a good cocksman.

Hazel started writhing as she came. Razor grimaced, his eyes tightly shut in what looked like pain, and he pulled his length from her. White spurts of come ejected, thick and sticky, onto her stomach . . . she counted: one. . two . . three . . . . four . . . . . . . five. The last small white gob spilled on her pubic hair, the first had landed between her small tits. She reached for his cock and caressed it, trying to keep it hard but Razor wilted in her hand. He fell back and sat leaning against the cab.

“Christ,” he said admiringly, “you are hot to trot.”

She smiled and thought that she could have waited at the last truck stop for a while with that pair of Jesus freaks.

SIX

When he recovered Razor ordered Junior to pull over at a rest stop and took over driving. Hazel waited in the back of the cab for the younger man to join her. She was still naked but had cleaned her torso with a hand towel but still felt clammy inside. Cliff was tired-he’d been driving all night before breakfast and another couple of hours while Razor fucked her twice-but Hazel used her lips to good purpose and soon had the younger man hard. He was big, at least a couple of inches longer than Razor, though his cock was a lot thinner. Her tongue swirled over its purple head and she used her teeth to nibble the underside. There was no way she was going to try and deep throat this thing, she thought, not while I’m still hurting from Razor’s penetration into her gullet.

Hazel started to suck the long thin prick in earnest, her lips reaching halfway down his length before pulling up. Saliva made each long draw easy. Once small hand gripped the base of Cliff’s rod, pulling tight what little slack there was in his hard on. Then she started to jerk her hand in rhythm with her mouth, pulling Cliff’s cock taught as she almost released it with her lips, the releasing his hand she plunged her face around. It didn’t take more than a minute or two before he came. Hazel quickened her movement and felt the warm gushes splash against her cheeks. A little less salty than Razor, she thought as she swallowed, and not as thick.

After his orgasm Cliff kind of keeled over on the mat and was soon snoring. Hazel pulled a blanket over his prostrate body and started picking through the floor of the cab for her clothes. She pulled on her panties and jeans but couldn’t find her shirt. From her backpack she pulled out her sweater, then thinking for a moment shook her bra and packed it away before pulling the sweater over her head. The wool felt rough against her nipples. Carefully, so as not to wake Cliff, she crawled out of the back of the cab, between the seats at the front and slid across the passenger seat.

It was a bright day. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky and the sun glared off the melting mush of snow and sleet. The highway was a black ribbon threading through white fields.

Razor looked at her. “How’s Junior?”

“He’s fine. And he ain’t so Junior.” Hazel smiled and wiped a strand of hair from her eye. There wasn’t much traffic.

“Where are we?” she asked, looking away from the window.

“We just got into Nebraska. Should make Kansas City by nightfall.”

They drove in silence. The big engine hummed beneath them augmented by the snoring from the back of the cab.

“Nebraska’s flat and boring,” Hazel observed after five minutes.

“It is that,” the truck driver confirmed. He glanced over and saw a glint in her eyes.

“I know how to make it less boring.”

“How’s that?”

“Unbuckle your belt and pants and you’ll see.”

“Jesus,” he sighed but did it anyway.

Hazel scooted across the wide seat and lay her head in his lap. She could still smell the sex from earlier wafting from his crotch. She unzipped his fly and rubbed his flaccid prick through his underwear. When she felt it begin to stir she pulled out. She examined it, twisting it around like it was the first time she’d seen a man’s parts. Her hands could feel the blood pumping up his meat, turning it from a limp lump into prime rib.

She started to nip at this solid thing, with her lips and not her teeth. Both hands squeezed and pressed both his hard on and balls. A droplet of clear liquid oozed from his peehole, which she licked with a quick swipe of her tongue. Pretty soon she had gobbled the whole thing up so the head was deep down her throat. Razor had already come twice that morning so Hazel it would probably take a while for him to do it again. Rather than get energetic and try and force it, she was much more exploratory, played with his balls and stuck an index finger between his buttocks till the tip found the bud of his anus. It she tried too hard all she’d get was a saw jaw; she knew that from experience.

“Christ, you’re one fine little cocksucker,” he complemented. Razor was finding it difficult to keep the truck straight on the highway while Hazel’s head bobbed up and down in his lap. Still he kept driving with only one hand gripping the wheel firmly while the other squeezed one of her breasts through her sweater so hard that it hurt. But that didn’t deter Hazel who felt the sperm beginning to ooze from his balls. It was only then she started to pump him hard with her mouth. When he finally came she didn’t swallow it but instead let it wash around her mouth. He tasted better than the other one. She lifted her head off his dying cock and looked at him. Razor blew the truck’s horn a couple of times, grinning. Hazel grinned so he could see some of his come on his tongue and her lips, and then gulped it down.

SEVEN

They got to Kansas City around eight and left the trailer at the loading yard. There’d been some mess up and they couldn’t pick up another load until morning. Razor asked if Hazel wanted to come with them to a Motel-6 and spend the night.

“Sure, I need to shower,” she said.

“I bet you do.”

When they got to the room Hazel took over the bathroom and took a steamy hot shower. Razor went off on foot to find a liquor store and some food while Cliff kicked off his shoes and sat in front of the TV. When she finished her shower Hazel washed her delicates and hung them on the shower rod. Wearing only the dressing gown she found hanging on the bathroom door she sat on the loveseat next to Cliff. Razor still hadn’t come back.

Hazel curled into the corner of the couch and with her naked foot began to stroke Cliff’s thigh. When he looked at she smiled at him.

“I’ve been wondering what it would be like to have your big thing inside of me.”

Cliff shook his head.

“I’m wondering if I could even take it all the way,” Hazel purred, “What do you think?”

Her foot was now rubbing the crotch of his jeans which was now swelling. She pulled the belt cord of her gown so it fell open and then leaned over him. Hazel’s tits quivered in his face. In a series of quick movements Cliff grabbed the remote, punched off the TV, dropped the plastic controller to the floor and cupped her breasts. She felt his calloused thumbs stroke the aureoles and nipples. They immediately perked up. Hazel’s hand had taken over where her foot had been and she could feel his throbbing prick trying to burst out his jeans. Easily she unclasped the belt button and pulled down his zipper. Her experienced hand found the opening of his shorts and grasped the long thin cock.

“How long is it?”

He pushed her back and pulled down his jeans and shorts. By the time they flopped on the floor Hazel had unbuttoned his shirt. He stood up holding her under the shoulders and shook off the shirt. Hazel wrapped her thighs around his waist and could feel his hard on pressing between the cheeks of her ass.

“Really, how long is it?” she asked a second time.

“Ten and half inches. You think you can take it?”

“I want to try.”

Cliff tossed her on her back onto the made bed. When Hazel looked up she saw his long thin rod stretching upward in front his belly. It looked liked it belonged on a horse. For the first time she began to doubt whether she really could absorb the whole length. She was only five foot three. She tried to calculate what was ten and half inches above the opening of her vagina and figured it might be her breastbone. The thing was one-sixth her height.

“Roll over,” he ordered. Compliantly Hazel did as she was told. He lifted her hips so she was crouched on the mattress. In anticipation she buried her face into the bedcovers and clenched some of the material between her teeth. She felt something brush against her labia and closed her eyes, waiting. It was only his tongue. She felt the wet tip probed her opening and his lips purse around her clit. It was more than arousing and soon she felt her body being racked with mini-orgasms. Man, she thought, this guy’s a real cunt-licker.

“You’ve got a sweet snatch Hazel,” Cliff commented when he finished eating her, and without further ado plunged six inches of his hard dick into it. His eating her out had her all moist and anyway it’s girth wasn’t as impressive as its length, so the prick slipped in easily. Mechanically he began to fuck her in short sharp jerks. Hazel slipped one hand between her legs and began to play with her clit in rhythm with his thrusts. Another orgasm rocked her mind.

“That’s about half of it . . . you want to see if you can take some more?”

Her voice muffled by the covers she said yes and felt the head of his cock stretching her vagina and penetrated another couple of inches. Her insides felt on fire as he began to fuck her deeper. She was sure he could feel his prick almost breaking her apart. Again her body responded and slowly her flesh relaxed around his meat. Each thrust was evoking a response or maybe it was her hand rubbing her clitoris.

“Is that all of it?” she asked releasing the blanket clenched between her teeth. Cliff answered by thrusting another couple of inches into her. Hazel almost screamed as her body was impaled. It was awesome. This long thin cock fucked her all the way, she could feel his pubic bone bouncing off her ass cheeks. It was searing her inside. Cliff slowed his rhythm and made long drawn out strokes. She could feel his prick head almost slip out before slowly going deeper and deeper till it was in to the hilt of his balls.

Almost oblivious she became conscious there was someone else in the room. It was Razor. She looked to the door where he was standing with a pizza box in one hand and a bottle of Jack in the other.

“Jesus Junior,” he said taking it all in, “you’re going to rip her apart.”

Cliff responded by picking up the pace, though with withdrawal he left a vacuum in her cunt and the filled it with the next plunge. Razor put down the pizza and poured same mash into a tooth glass. He sat on the other bed and sipped slowly and after putting the glass down on the nightstand, unzipped his pants and pulled out his hardening prick. With every other stroke Hazel was peaking again and again. Razor walked around the bed and waved his dick in Hazel’s face. Like a dog she got on all fours and tried to suck its purple head but was so shaken it was all she could do to lick it. Cliff came, writhing inside her as his sperm spilled into her. Hazel came, her eyes watering from the exhilaration.

Cliff pulled out of her. Hazel’s breathing returned to something approaching normal and resumed sucking Razor’s cock. Slowly, so the union of his prick with her mouth wouldn’t be broken, Razor sat on the bed with his back on headboard. Still on all fours Hazel sucked his thick prick. Cliff watched her, stroking his still hard member. Razor’s prick was throbbing in her mouth when Hazel felt Cliff get on the bed behind her, his hands caressing her buttocks.

“I can’t suck and fuck at the same time,” Hazel said after emptying her mouth of Razor’s cock. For a moment both men lucked at her puzzled, but as she moved it dawned on them that Hazel had a solution. She got on knees and moved up Razor’s body while grasping Cliff’s hand. Razor was the first to get it.

“Hey, I’m not taking sloppy seconds,” he grumbled outraged.

“Baby,” adjudged Hazel. She turned around so she faced Cliff and exchanged his cock for his hand. With her free hand she pulled one of her ass cheeks to the side and felt the tip of Razor’s cock brush against her asshole. She felt his head breach the puffed up lips of her backdoor opening.

“You sure you can take it,” Razor asked, his voice concerned. Hazel answered by sitting down on his hardness, and heard him gasp as his prick was engulfed by the tightness of her rectum. Hazel leaned back, still holding Cliff’s cock like a stiff leash, so her back rested on Razor’s hairy chest. She pulled Cliff by his long member toward her guiding it into the opening of her vagina. Cliff plunged half the length into her as he lay atop her body, his hands mashing her tits.

Razor started thrusting into her ass, Cliff responded in kind. She grabbed the white man’s buttocks so the whole ten inches of his prick pierced through her. He rocked into her slowly, no doubt feeling the thicker cock of Razor’s a membrane away. Both men fucked her slowly, almost tenderly. Hazel’s inside churned as eighteen inches of cock filled her plumbing, which amazed her. Both of them were already worn out from all the day’s fucking but they kept grinding their meaty bones into her. The orgasms started to build-up and explode, and she tried to count them but her head was too cloudy. Then she came again. How many times now? she tried to think but they kept on fucking her.

Cliff came first, gushing into her and collapsing onto her chest. That seemed to invigorate Razor some and he picked up his pace and started to pummel her ass. Hazel’s fingers touched her clit, and could feel the softening rod that was still inside her. The friction of Razor’s thrusting had dried her saliva and his eight inches were beginning to hurt. She took her mind off it by playing with her clit, trying to coax one more climax from her wasted body. She didn’t feel Razor’s climax but noted it by the increasing ease with which his prick moved in and out of her not it had spilled some lubrication. He kept thrusting into her even as he relaxed to semi-hard until she came.

Cliff slid out of her and went to the bathroom. Hazel lay on her back on top of Razor and felt his muscle shrinking inside her ass. Slowly she maneuvered so his penis no longer pierced her. Cliff was back in the room standing naked by the table as she decoupled from Razor. His once massive penis looked almost normal hanging between his legs.

“The pizza’s cold,” he said simply.

EIGHT

The next morning they drove the truck to the loading yard. The night before they drank the bottle of bourbon after finishing the pizza. Razor fell asleep on one bed. Hazel gave Cliff a blowjob while he was watching Sport’s Center and he came during the hockey highlights. Then Cliff took the other bed. Hazel showered again, cleaning the come and dried up juices from her orifice and brushing her teeth. She grabbed one of the bedcovers and slept on the couch with the TV on some bad late-night sci-fi.

The sparkle of the TV woke her. Looking around she oriented herself. She could here Cliff in the shower while Razor snored contently. Without waking him she carefully lifted the sheets. He had a morning hard-on that she automatically sucked. When he woke and became conscious of what was happening he pulled her on top of him and she rode him till he came. When they were finished they became aware that Cliff had changed channels and was watching the sport news again. Razor ordered room service so by the time Hazel was out of the shower there was a cold plate of eggs and bacon, with soggy toast.

At the loading yard they hitched a trailer onto the cab. Razor drove through the barbed wire covered gate and pulled onto the on-ramp of the highway. Hazel sat between the two truckers. After driving around the KC beltway they picked up I-70 heading east.

“I thought we were going to Houston?” Hazel asked.

“Change of plans. This load is for Newark.”

They kept driving on the busy interstate. After a couple of hours Razor pulled into a truck stop to fill the tanks with diesel. Cliff headed to the restroom for a crap. Hazel grabbed her knapsack from the back of the cab and slipped out the door without either of them seeing her. She went into the diner and found the ladies’ restroom and waited in a stall. For an hour, maybe more, until she felt certain Razor and his Junior would have left.

She was going south for the winter. No matter what anyone else wanted. Taking off her sweater so everyone could see her tight shirt clutch her small breasts, Hazel sided up to the counter and ordered a coffee and looked around the room at the truckers dining.

END