Thanks for the memories, I hold them tight in my heart
Long Haul Truckers have a reputation. But the truth is that few of them go for the gay scene. Prostitutes are more like it, but even then, few and far between. But there are truckers on the lookout for young meat. I was young meat, 19 and hitchhiking from St. Louis to Portland. The man picked me up and as we drove on the highway he talked about his past glories. To hear him he was a stud. Then he pressed me to confess, and I told him the truth, I hadn't ever gone all the way, I was a virgin. That's all he needed to hear.
We pulled into the small rest stop and he told me we needed to get back in the cab sleeper so the cops wouldn't give him a ticket. If he was 'resting' they let it ride. Back there he took off his boots, told me to take off my shoes, pulled his pants off down to his pee stained briefs, told me to get my pants off too. That's where I stopped, my alarm bells tarted ringing, but he wasn't deterred, he yelled at me to take my pants off. He didn't even give me time to get my pants off both legs and he was pulling my briefs down going for my pole. In a second, he had my d*** in his mouth and he was going to town on it.
I won't lie to you, right then it was yum, yum. He pulled my underpants off, with one hand around my d*** and the other doing the work, then pushed his off and his d*** popped out. He got me face down on the small mattress with my backside up in the air and he was on top of me like lightning. The cab was shaking, he was going hard at it. I had tears in my eyes, snot in my nose, my d*** was leaking, I wasn't ever going to be a virgin again. He came but I didn't notice, I didn't know what to look for. He came and ran his finger across my hole, rubbing the c** around. I stayed like that, in position, on my knees and my face in the small pillow. He sat behind me, reaching out to j*** on my d***, or poke a finger in my ass.
I rode west with him all the way to Cheyenne Wyoming where he had to let me go, but not without another loving romp in the sleeper. By the time I got to Portland I was proud of having become a man, well maybe not a man, I was proud that I wasn't a virgin. From that day on I knew what I wanted, and try as I could, all the way through college and beyond, I never landed another trucker.