It was about seven-thirty on a Sunday night when I was heading back home from a buddy’s house after a nice afternoon of lounging around, grilling some steaks and enjoying his wife’s home-brewed iced tea. It had all been a really relaxing day, and I was ready to head back to the house to shower and call it a night before facing yet another Monday.
The interstate was busy as usual, but not to the point of being crowded. Cars zoomed by and the occasional big truck decorated the concrete with its diesel-flavored melodies. Man, how I love the sound of a diesel engine! I turned on my CB Radio to listen in on the chatter that I was sure was going on. There were a few drivers exchanging directions somewhere in the distance, so I clicked my microphone a few times not really expecting anything. My clicks were answered almost instantly, and they were coming in really loud and very clear. The trucker was close!
It wasn’t long after the trucker and I traded CB clicks that we were talking like two old friends. I moved him around from channel to channel a couple of times to lose any curious audiences that may have been listening to us. A little added privacy always helped. He asked me the usual questions after we got to chat on the CB, and it was his questions that convinced me he was the real thing. Most truckers that just want to play games with you won’t get into much detail about what they want to do, or they’ll be overly descriptive with their proposals. Despite his deep and commanding voice, the driver calm voice told me he definitely wanted some action. We both happened to be headed southbound, and after a five or 10 minutes I caught up to him on down the interstate. He was driving a flatbed, and he was hauling logs south for some big company I didn’t bother to remember. What I do remember is his telling me he was ready for a “good blowjob”. I tried to picture his hardon as it tented in his pants and occasionally hit the steering wheel.
“Why don’t you pull up beside me and give me a little show?” he asked over the CB.
“Sounds good to me,” I told him. “Lemme know if you can see alright.” I pulled up on the left lane of the two-lane highway and took my fat, uncut pecker out of my jeans. I was already hard from the little adventure I was having, so I wasted no time as I showed my boner to this flatbed fucker.
“Dammit, boy…” the deep voice came over the CB. “Now you get me really stiff here. Let’s stop at the pullover just on the other side of the next town. That’s about eight miles away.”
“I can do that,” I said. “I’ll run up ahead a bit and let these people behind me pass me up.”
“Just be sure and give me a good show before we get there, good buddy.”
For the next eight miles I beat my dick off in all sorts of creative ways that one can only imagine. My driving skills were tested and we overcame curves, speed zones and the occasional 18-wheeler as it drove by not noticing my boner poking out from my jeans. We finally made it to the pullover with only a few minutes of daylight left. We couldn’t have timed it better. I got my digital camera, my condoms and made sure my wallet was tucked safely underneath my seat before I headed out to meet the trucker.
The pullover was nothing more than sixty feet of gravel that had been dumped there and now made a shoulder big enough for an eighteen-wheeler to squeeze into. It was easy to miss if you didn’t know it was there.
I locked my vehicle, walked around to the passenger side of the truck to see the trucker standing by the door with his back to me and taking a piss.
“Need some help, there?” I shouted over the roaring engine of his Peterbilt.
“Come on,…” he motioned as he turned around and shook the last drops of piss from his dick. “Take care of this.” I looked at his dick, looked at him, looked around and laughed.
“You want me to get in through the passenger door or the driver’s side?”
“Right here.” He stroked his cock, and instantly it grew to a hefty seven or eight inches of thick, uncut trucker dick. “You can suck me off right here, and no one’s going to see.”
I laughed nervously, looked around, and realized he was right. The way we were parked, the truck itself hid us from traffic as it flew by, and my truck unwittingly hid us from anyone coming in the opposite direction. The only flaw I could see were the two pairs of feet standing notoriously close to each other.
“Hurry up,” he said sternly. “I gotta get rollin’”
With the feet situation in mind, I sat on the second step of the passenger side and leaned over almost parallel to the ground. I tucked my head under the exhaust stack and deep-throated that fat dick as best I could. The precum was flowing, and it mixed in with the last bit of piss to give me a bittersweet taste with which to remember that flatbed trucker by. “That’s damn good, boy,” he shouted at me. “Just watch your head. That stack is hot.”
I could feel the heat radiating from the exhaust stack as it warmed my left ear. I didn’t care. A couple of times my head hit the stack, but the annoying burns were worth every second of skull-fucking the driver gave me. Two minutes flew by and I couldn’t help but wonder how we looked there. He was furiously fucking my face, his cock and balls jutting out of the opening of his pants, and I looked like some sort of circus contortionist as I held on for dear life to the steps and the driver to keep from falling. The image danced in my head and I was dizzy from my adventure. The driver shot his thick, creamy load down my throat as he let growled and moaned with every shot that left his cock. I could tell he didn’t care who heard him. I realized we had nothing to worry about with the combination of dense vegetation next to the truck, the roar of the diesel engine and the gusts of wind from traffic as it flew by.
Another minute went by until his cock finally went soft in my mouth and he pulled out. We made idle chat, I told him awesome that little “outdoor” adventure was, and how I’d be glad to repeat it anytime he felt the need.
“I’d never done anything like that outside like that,” I told him in my best redneck accent. He laughed a hearty laugh, as he tucked his cock into his pants and fixed his belt and shirt.
“Well, there’s always a first time.”
We started to leave when I asked if I could give him my number. He thought it a great idea, and I decided to ask if I could take a few pictures of his truck. He laughed again, and said it was fine. I took four pictures and used different settings and different angles to get the best possible shots of the truck. I couldn’t help but notice the steps where I’d sat and treated myself to a hefty dose of trucker cum. His piss had stained the ground and made it noticeably darker than the gravel around it. My dick started to get hard again, and I decided it was time to go. The night now upon us, the photos turned out too dark to do that shiny Peterbilt much justice, but they were a great reminder of my first roadside blowjob. It just doesn’t get much more exciting than that.
The driver got back into his truck and waited for me to get to my vehicle and start it up. The CB radio still on the same channel as before, he came across the CB to let me know I was clear to jump back on the highway.
“Bring some of those pictures the next time you swing by,” he said.
I smiled. I told him I’d carry my little album next time, and I hoped he wouldn’t forget about me. He laughed again, and said I’d better be ready for a quick run out to this pullover when he called. The whole outdoor experience had been an awesome one for me, and I was ready to enjoy it again if he ever called me back. First time, or not.
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