Totally Trucked: An M/m Opposites Attract Age Gap Romance Page 3

  I snort. My friends are so full of it. I don’t believe for a second they’re not getting action, but I can understand why they’re pissed I don’t have news to share.

  Besides driving, truckers don’t exactly have a lot going on. We need whatever boyfriend drama we can get.

  Me: I’ll share news when it comes. I’m heading back to BS tonight. If he’s at the Truck n’ Munch, I’ll let you know

  Juicy Jasper: WHAT?!

  Big Riggs: You’re heading back TONIGHT?

  Juicy Jasper: Lucas

  Lickin' Lucas: What?

  Juicy Jasper: Didn’t you see that? Jax is heading back tonight

  Lickin' Lucas: I saw it. Sorry, I was taking a piss

  Lickin' Lucas: See?

  Lucas sends a picture of his limp cock at the urinal. He’s indeed taking a piss. I snort and send a thumbs down emoji.

  Me: Nobody wants to see your cock, Lucas

  Lickin' Lucas: That’s not what the sexy leather daddy in the spot next to me said

  Juicy Jasper: LOL

  Big Riggs: Pics or it didn’t happen

  Lickin' Lucas: We’re in the stall now. He gives excellent head, but I doubt he’ll let me snap a pic

  Juicy Jasper: Quit being a pussy

  There’s a pause in the conversation. I assume Lucas is asking his bathroom hookup for permission. At last, Lucas sends a pic of the leather daddy sucking him off. It’s gloriously nasty.

  Me: I’m going to be sick

  Big Riggs: That’s what I’m talking about

  Lickin' Lucas: Told you he was suckin’ me off

  Me: Dude, when did you get a dick ring

  Juicy Jasper: Right??? What the fuck

  Lickin' Lucas: Isn’t it sexy

  Me: Fuck no. It’s the most hideous goddamn thing I’ve ever seen

  Jasper “loves” my last message. I snort and sip the Mountain Slush I bought earlier in the day. I delete the pic of Lucas’s cock ring. The last thing I want to see is my buddy’s cock.

  Lickin' Lucas: It’s fabulous. I can’t help it you bitches are jealous

  Big Riggs: Whoa now, those are fightin’ words

  Lickin' Lucas: I’ll beat your ass, Jasper. My dick ring is sexy and you know it

  Juicy Jasper: I can’t believe anyone enjoys dick rings. My ex had a dick ring. It always got caught in my teeth

  Me: How does a dick ring get stuck in your teeth

  Juicy Jasper: I don’t know. That’s why I don’t like them

  Juicy Jasper: I was scared I’d bite it

  Lickin' Lucas: …oh God

  Lickin' Lucas: AHHHHHH

  Juicy Jasper: What is it?!?!?!

  Lickin' Lucas: I took my eyes away for ONE SECOND to vape and he bit off my dick ring!!! Help!

  Lucas sends a picture of the leather daddy’s face covered in come. The daddy’s face is surrounded by a cloud of Lucas’ vape, because Lucas apparently can’t quit vaping even when getting his cock sucked. It’d be aesthetic as fuck if it wasn’t so gag-inducing.

  Me: Fuck you. I was excited to see your mutilated dick

  Big Riggs: Someone’s into pain, I see

  Me: Fuck off. Anyways I’ve gotta get back to work. I’ve got a load of medical devices I’m taking to Bear Springs and you’re distracting the hell out of me

  Lickin' Lucas: Just FYI, the dick ring is a clip-on. It’s not an actual piercing. I found online for ten dollars, but it’s fucking priceless in helping me get laid. Please keep us updated on the mystery dick

  I snort and tuck away my phone. My friends are wild. If I’m having a down day, they always make me laugh.

  But today, they’re distracting as fuck. I have one objective, and that’s to book it to the Truck n’ Munch at top speed. So I step on the gas, and within hours, my heart rate slowly subsides as I pull past the familiar sign Welcome to Bear Springs!

  The Truck n’ Munch glistens out of the corner of my eye.

  But before I can pull in, my rig suddenly spasms and halts to a violent stop.

  Logan

  “I’m serious, dude. You gotta go back.”

  I slide my pencil out of my pocket and turn to Forest. He has to be joking. There’s no way my best friend’s bringing up my truck stop hookup in the middle of a shift. Right?

  Wrong. If the glint in Forest’s eye is any indication, he’s absolutely bringing this up. At the worst possible time.

  “For Christ’s sake.” I bring my fingers to my temples. “It was one time. You’ve gotta let this go.”

  The smirk on Forest’s face lets me know he doesn’t buy my bullshit. “It’s happened twice and you know it. You’re forgetting the time the dude blew you before you got busted with me.”

  Forest is correct to say he busted me.

  Apparently people don’t stay in truck stop bathrooms, gasping and moaning with the stall next to them occupied, like I did that night.

  After we left, he cornered me and pried the information out of me, and I’d admitted everything.

  The next day, he returned and saw the glory hole himself.

  He hasn’t let up since.

  “Fine. But I don’t want to talk about it in the middle of my shift. I’m tryna pay rent, ya know.”

  Forest snorts. “Diner’s empty, dumbass. I wanna hear about Mr. Mystery Mouth.”

  Talk about grating. “You don’t have to use my nickname for him, dude. It’s totally not cool.”

  He shakes his head. “It’s fucking hilarious. You’ve got a sexy trucker blowing you in the Truck n’ Munch bathroom. Mr. Mystery Mouth is the perfect name for him, and I hope you visit him again.”

  I’m about to scorch Forest with words of fury and remind him that he has no idea if the man’s a trucker — it’s not like you can have a conversation or find out someone’s profession through a glory hole — when suddenly the doorbell rings, and the hostess shouts my name, letting me know I have a customer.

  I smirk at Forest. “Sorry to leave ya. But duty calls.” I shrug and leave the kitchen.

  Forest rolls his eyes. “I’m kicking you out of the apartment if you don’t go back tonight.”

  Jesus. What’s with my friend and his obsession with my mystery guy?

  Luckily, I have a customer. That’s plenty to distract me from Forest and the Truck n’ Munch come-swallowing mystery mouth I’m desperate to see again.

  It’s a man, my customer. He’s sitting in the corner booth next to the Betty’s Biscuits neon sign and nursing a cup of coffee, which the hostess has brought over.

  And holy shit, he is cute.

  Lickably cute.

  Like I’ll-take-him-straight cute, with a side of extra fucking arousing on the side.

  He’s 6’2”, with dark hair, bulging tattooed muscles, and exceptionally brooding eyes.

  The blood rushes straight to my cock, and I nearly trip over my feet as I walk to his side.

  The giant truck tattoo on his forearm lets me know he’s probably a trucker, which means he’s constantly on the road and therefore totally off limits, but still.

  A boy can dream, can’t he?

  I notice my customer who I’m totally not popping a semi for’s coffee is half-empty. “Let me refill that,” I offer, putting on my friendliest face and putting my incipient attraction to this man aside.

  I’ve been eyeing a new set of synthetic brushes at Hazel's Hardware to help with my painting, and I need as much tip money as I can get.

  The friendlier the smile, the faster I get my brushes.

  It’s a little manipulative, but then again, charming customers for tip money is kinda part of the job.

  The man seems grateful for my offer. “Thanks.”

  “Cream or sugar?” I ask.

  “Black is fine,” he rasps in a deep low voice, instantly stirring the embers in my loins.

  I nod and go to grab the coffee carafe from the front, snagging a menu on the way back and filling his cup.

  “My name is Logan, and I’ll be your server today.” I sl
ide the menu in front of him. “Take a minute to look over the menu, and I’ll be back to take your order.”

  The man snorts. “I’m Jax,” he says, apparently unaware that customers don’t usually introduce themselves by their first names. “My rig broke down, so I won’t be looking at the menu. I need something with cheese and bacon. As much bacon as you can cook.”

  I smirk. “Are you passing through?

  Jax nods. “Trucker.”

  “I’ve been through Bear Springs a couple times,” Jax continues, taking a sip of coffee and flexing his bulging tattooed muscles, causing something to spasm in my gut. “But I’ve never had car trouble before. Unfortunately, I’ll be holed up for at least a week. That’s what Pete says.”

  A bolt of sympathy courses through me. “I’m sorry to hear that.” I’m also sorry he has to deal with Pete, our town’s only reputable mechanic. I decide not to say this out loud.

  “I know.” Jax shoots me a sad smile. “Hence the need for something bacon-y.”

  I bark out a laugh. “In that case, you ought to try our cheddar-bacon omelet. It’s a house special, so you’ll save a couple bucks. It’s our bacon-y-est item on the menu.”

  “How much bacon?”

  “All of it. All the bacon.”

  Jax laughs, and immediately I realize that getting a bigger tip from him will be easier than I thought.

  I top off his coffee a second time. “Actually, it’s only three slices. But I have connections in the kitchen, so I’ll request a little more from the chef.”

  “Nothing beats a waiter with connections to the kitchen staff.”

  His lame joke causes me to chuckle. “Would you like hash browns or breakfast potatoes with your omelet?”

  Jax snorts. “How about extra bacon?”

  I can’t help but laugh. Jax is oddly charming, in a weird trucker way. And all this talk of bacon is making me hungry. “I’ll make it happen.”

  “I’m kidding. I’ll take the breakfast potatoes, extra crispy.”

  “Perfect. Would you like ketchup with those?”

  Jax mulls this over. “You know, I’ll give it a shot. My grandma used to eat her breakfast potatoes with ketchup, and I always thought it was disgusting. But my rig’s busted, and for the first time ever, I’m in a ketchup sort of mood.”

  “I’ll let the kitchen know.”

  “Thanks, Logan.”

  I pivot to put in his order, already seeing dollar signs.

  This customer is funny, cute, and stuck in Bear Springs for at least the next week, which means there’s a good chance he’ll come back to Betty’s.

  Especially if I make a good first impression.

  And god almighty, he has sexy tattoos.

  I make a mental note to recommend a top-notch motel to Jax. There’s a decent chance he doesn’t have a motel, and Sweet Dreamin’ has cable and lots of availability.

  I can already feel the brand-new brushes bristling in my hands.

  All I have to do is keep Jax happy and I’ll be able to paint the pet portraits of my dreams.

  4

  Logan

  Chilly May wind assaults my face as I leave Betty’s and head to the Truck n’ Munch that night.

  It wasn’t my plan to head there after work, but Forest is persuasive.

  Also, I read my horoscope this morning, and the stars are definitely telling me there’s “someone special” in my life if only I “take a chance.”

  Paired with Forest’s nonstop reminders of “incredible blowjobs” and “mystery men who might become boyfriends,” that was all it took to snap me out of my post-work funk and head to the stalls.

  Thank fuck, because I really need a release.

  My balls have been throbbing since my conversation with Jax.

  Apparently, it’s hard to recommend a motel to an impeccably tattooed trucker without thinking of what he might do inside said hotel room… Particularly on the bed.

  At least my mystery mouth guy will relieve me of my “stress.”

  Blocks and trucks pass as I put as much distance between myself and Betty’s until at last I arrive at the Truck n’ Munch.

  “Dammit,” I mutter, walking towards the front glass doors.

  There’s barely a car here, which means my chances of running into the mystery man are practically zero.

  Yet I have to follow through with my plan.

  Even if it means waiting in the stalls for hours.

  Forest will have my ass if I give up because there were no cars.

  Also, I’m not about to ignore my mother-trucking horoscope because the lot’s empty.

  Horoscopes have looked after me my entire life, or at least given me unforgettable entertainment. I have zero reason to think they’d let me down.

  Throwing open the door to the truck stop, I cross the lobby, water fountains, and vending machines with renewed energy, and throw open the door of the bathroom and head straight to the stalls.

  I ignore the fact that the dimly lit bathroom is as empty as Betty’s on a Friday night, because my job isn’t to judge the lack of traffic in the bathroom.

  “Taking a chance” means waiting for opportunities, and it could very well mean waiting all night.

  I settle into the second-to-last stall in the row and set my work backpack on the floor.

  I pull out my phone to play Pokémon Go, and search for a Charmander.

  I have a few spins left today, so I occupy myself with that while I sit in the stall.

  It isn’t until forty-five minutes and countless Pokestop spins later that I realize not a single person has come in my entire time sitting in this godforsaken bathroom, Mr. Mystery Mouth or not.

  I close the Pokémon Go app on my phone and slide my phone into my pants.

  “Fuck,” I groan, crossing my arms over my chest.

  I stare at the paneled ceiling and contemplate the series of decisions that led to my spending my Friday night waiting in vain for trucker cock.

  I said I was going to give it my best shot.

  But forty-five minutes is a little much, even for me.

  I lean back on the seat and palm my cock through my jeans.

  Barring any sudden developments, a quick hot come might be exactly what I need. Jerk, come, leave. Tell Forest the man never showed. He can’t fault me for that.

  And who knows? Maybe the thrill of jerking off in a bathroom stall — even if the bathroom is deserted — might make me forget the man didn’t show up.

  Jerking in a semi-public location is so goddamn naughty but oh so fucking hot, and it could be what I need to turn this night around.

  Only one way to find out.

  I unzip my jeans. Spitting on my palm, I pull out my cock and lube up the shiny head.

  A flicker of warmth rushes through me as the memory of the mystery mouth enters my mind.

  “Fuck,” I whisper, bringing myself to an erection.

  I picture the mystery man gagging as he keeps my cock locked in his tight, hot throat, slurping every fucking drop of pre-come and refusing to let anything go.

  It’s so fucking hot. I’m not even mad I’ve wasted my entire fucking night.

  I let a strand of spit fall from my lips to my cock head and use it as lube.

  Harsh moans escape me as I jerk and tug.

  I tighten my grip on my shaft until it resembles a hot mouth and then I penetrate this mouth with violence.

  “Shit,” I grunt, jerking faster, relishing the heat and tightness of my palm.

  I slip my other hand beneath my balls and apply pressure to my taint.

  It causes me to cry out with shock and pleasure, and I remove my fingers and bring them to my nose, inhaling deeply.

  A shudder courses through me.

  It’s so fucking dirty.

  Then again, I’m beating my meat in a public bathroom, so maybe I’m a dirty guy.

  Maybe a little filth is exactly what I need.

  Inhaling my primal scented musk pushes me to the fucking precipice of m
y arousal.

  I let out a strained moan and force myself to the edge, shaking with need.

  Three more strokes and I’ll come, hot and hard.

  Then I can head back to the apartment and finally get some sleep.

  I’m panting with need and within a cat’s breath of my orgasm when without warning the Truck n’ Munch door opens and sends me freezing on the spot.

  Jax

  I'm back. In the truck stop. In the same goddamn bathroom that changed my fucking life.

  That's an exaggeration. But the point stands.

  Never have I been so goddamn excited to yank my pants down and sit my bare ass cheeks on a public bathroom stall in my life.

  Crossing the bathroom floor, I settle into the seat of my favorite stall and shoot a stream of piss into the toilet.

  At that very same fucking moment, something rustles in the stall next-door, so I squint my eyes and turn to face the dark glory hole, then all at once, the cock head timidly pokes through, and a tidal wave of relief crashes over me.

  It’s the cock. The mystery cock. The same beautiful cock I fell in love with all those months ago that’s latched onto me and taunted me in my fucking dreams.

  Every sensory organ in my body jolts up to full intensity.

  Drool trickles out of my mouth as I salivate lustily.

  The cock is red, aggravated tonight, like the man was edging.

  A flicker of excitement shoots through me at the thought that this man was jerking in the stall for hours.

  Last time, I was the one who waited.

  Tonight, he waited for me.

  Gripping the base of the shaft, I bring the engorged tip to my lips and let my breath cascade hotly around it.

  The stranger whimpers, and I lick the underside of the tip, letting my tongue morph to the shape of his glands.

  As I swirl my tongue across the slick head, the familiar taste of pre-come washes over my tongue, driving me fucking crazy with need.

  I let out a primal grunt as the immensity of my need devours me, lapping and swallowing every fucking droplet of pre-come and piss like I want to IV it straight into my veins.