Totally Trucked: An M/m Opposites Attract Age Gap Romance Page 5

  But it stays put, thank fucking God, because I’ll be damned to hell if I let something like that stop me from sucking this cock.

  I moan and gasp as he face-fucks me, slamming his cock into my throat as if he owns me, controls me, making me his fucking lover.

  “Yes,” I cry out, before coughing and gagging on the massive hardness, nearly fucking vomiting up my lunch.

  All at once, I gasp and remove the cock from my mouth.

  I wrap my fingers around the shaft, moaning and pumping the cock, relishing the way it throbs and squirms in my hand.

  I bring my lips to the tip and swirl my tongue underneath the foreskin, and the stranger grunts and thrusts into the hole even harder.

  Suddenly, the stranger lets out a primitive moan. “Gonna come,” he grunts.

  His cock thickens and expands, and I jerk faster, harder, desperate to unleash this beast in my fucking throat.

  “Gonna come.”

  Without another word, his cock spasms and erupts in my throat, shooting stream after stream of hot pungent spunk down my throat, and I scream because I can’t keep it in my mouth.

  His cock vibrates again, sending shots like exploding bullets on my lips and chin.

  The come splatters against my face, and I moan and scream because I’m so fucking pissed I can’t swallow it all, every goddamn drop.

  Spunk falls to the floor in great globs, but I want to lick his come from the filthy floor, so fucking desperate to swallow every drop.

  Fuck,” I whimper, stroking his wet shaft as he finishes. “Keep coming. Don’t stop.”

  The man grunts and keeps his cock in the glory hole, almost like he doesn’t want to leave. Would he wait for me outside if I followed him? Would he want me? Or would he think I’m a pathetic kid he’d never speak to in real life?

  I’m mulling this over when something vibrates and buzzes in his stall, causing the man to tense.

  He fumbles in his pants pocket for something, and I realize he’s whipped out his phone. “Yeah?”

  His voice is low, gruff. I wish I could understand him better, but the goddam stall prevents me from hearing him well. It sounds like garbled mumbles.

  He removes his cock. “Okay. Coming.”

  After pulling up his pants, he issues three curt taps on the stall door — tap tap tap — and heads out.

  After cleaning the floor with toilet paper, I rush out to see him.

  But by the time I reach the parking lot, he’s gone.

  6

  Jax

  Life is a bitch. One second, an adorably inexperienced anonymous young man is sucking you off in a bathroom stall.

  The next, Pete the auto repair man is telling you “your rig is fixed” because apparently all it needed was a “new tire” and a “fresh set of bolts.”

  Apparently a local council member told Pete he didn’t need his car fixed after all, and my not-so-sturdy rig was promoted to the front of the line.

  Normally, the latter would be excellent news. But when you’re in the middle of a BJ with the sexiest mouth around, it’s the worst news ever.

  With a grumble, I’d rushed to Pete’s and picked up my rig, and texted Jonah to let him know the rig was ready.

  Corporate must’ve been in the office, because Jonah ordered me to high-tail it out of Bear Springs and get back to work on the double.

  So much for having a chill boss. This was the unluckiest lucky break in the history of the world.

  I’m heading to West Virginia to pick up a freight load of assorted local canned fruits and vegetables, and I’ll bring it to the Rust Belt when it’s secured in the back.

  I’m not mad I have to get back to work, but I am sad as hell I had to rush outta the stall.

  Because holy shit, the mystery sucker was the sexiest, hottest, dirtiest little fuck I’ve ever met in my life.

  At first, I wasn’t sure he wanted to suck me. I’d tried earlier in the week, but he didn’t put it in his mouth.

  But last night was different. He didn’t hesitate a moment.

  Though he was obviously a mouth virgin — probably some straight guy exploring his bicurious side — he definitely picked up the necessary skills on the job, and in no time he was sucking and swallowing like the experienced cocksucker god created him to be.

  Such a fucking shame Jonah’s bitch ass forced me to leave.

  The roads are empty this morning, which gives me too much time to think, so it isn’t exactly my fault that my mind travels back to Bear Springs — to Betty’s Biscuits, to be exact.

  What’s Logan doing? Is he taking care of new customers and bringing them free bacon? Or is he searching the diner, his eyes flitting around for me?

  My stomach clenches at the thought of Logan working without me.

  I’d wanted to wait until this morning to leave so I could say goodbye.

  Damn Jonah for forcing me out.

  “You’re nuts,” I grunt with a snort, putting the truck on autopilot. “He doesn’t even remember who you are.”

  It’s crazy. Logan and I don’t have a connection. He’s nice because I tip him, and that’s the extent of our relationship.

  I did a little back-of-the-napkin addition before I left. Thirty dollars in unnecessary tips. I’m tipping the guy five hundred percent.

  No wonder he gives me extra bacon.

  “At least my wallet will thank me.” I don’t say the last part of the sentence out loud. It’s too embarrassing.

  But I think it.

  At least my wallet will thank me, even if my heart wants to stay in Bear Springs.

  My phone buzzes, so I pull over to the shoulder. Is it a message from Jonah?

  Nah, thank fuck. It’s the Big Rig. They received the news I’d been stuck in Bear Springs, but I hadn’t updated them about the glory hole situation.

  Now that I’m leaving Bear Springs for a while, it’s the perfect time to message them back.

  Lickin' Lucas: Updates. Now.

  Me: You could ask me politely, ya know

  Lickin' Lucas: Come on. We’re dying

  Lickin' Lucas: …Jasper?

  Juicy Jasper: WHAT Jesus. I’m trying to jerk off

  Lickin' Lucas: I was asking if you wanted to hear about Jax’s situation

  Juicy Jasper: Can it wait until I nut?

  I chuckle. Leave it to my friends to cheer me up. All my thoughts of Logan and the diner fade to the wings as I think of Jasper struggling to nut.

  Me: You can do it. I believe in you

  Juicy Jasper: Thanks. It’s a tough one, but I’m confident I’ll pull it off

  Lickin' Lucas: Pics or it didn’t happen

  Me: Please don’t send us pictures of your nut

  Big Riggs: Please do. I’m in the mood to bust one out too. If the pics are hot enough, I might use Jasper for inspiration

  Juicy Jasper: Since when do you get off on seeing me nut?

  Big Riggs: Don’t play coy. You know I fantasize about you incessantly

  Big Riggs: I’m jerking off about you on the road as we speak

  Riggs sends a picture of his hard cock in his rig. I groan and delete the pic at once.

  Me: Come on, guys. I’m in a committed relationship with an anonymous cock from a glory hole. Please don’t tempt me with pics of your little dicks

  Juicy Jasper: Little? LITTLE?

  Big Riggs: It’s little, dude. Don’t deny it

  I can’t help but laugh. My friends are crazy.

  Me: Can I spill the beans about my Truck n’ Munch regular? Or are you too busy jerking off and/or lusting over Jasper’s cock?

  Juicy Jasper: Go for it. I’m almost done jerking anyways

  Lickin' Lucas: I also want to hear. As much as I love Jasper’s baby cock, I need all the imaginative fodder I can get in the rig. Jasper’s sexy pics will only get me off for so long

  “Jackasses,” I grumble. But inside I’m laughing. In three quick texts, I recount the story from the past few days to Jasper and Lucas.

  L
ickin' Lucas: Oh my God. He sounds like a fucking CATCH

  Me: I know. Isn’t it hot?

  Juicy Jasper: I’d be careful. He sounds young. Next time, ask to see his ID

  Me: I’m not asking my anonymous hookup for his ID. He’ll think I’m a serial killer

  Me: Also you seem to be forgetting it’s called an ANONYMOUS hookup for a reason. He doesn’t want to show his face. Neither do I

  Big Riggs: I don’t know, dude. It seems like you’re both into each other. It might not be a bad idea to take the next step

  Me: We’ve met up a handful of times. I hardly think that counts as “into each other,” and certainly not enough to see each other’s faces

  Juicy Jasper: Riggs is right. You should see his face. He might be gorgeous. That wouldn’t be so bad

  Me: Not going down this road again

  Lickin' Lucas: *sighs*

  Lickin' Lucas: You can’t keep running from love. Michael was over six MONTHS ago. Maybe the glory hole guy will help you forget his cheating ass

  Me: I am over him

  Big Riggs: No you’re not lol

  Me: Whatever. I’m not getting in another relationship

  Juicy Jasper: Is that why you won’t ask for the Truck n’ Munch sucker’s ID? You’re afraid of getting hurt?

  Me: Confidential information

  Lickin' Lucas: Don’t be such a pussy!!!

  Big Riggs: Ikr. You might like him

  Me: That’s the WORST thing that could happen. If we had ANYTHING in common, I’d never step foot in Bear Springs again

  The conversation is grinding on me, so I snap my phone shut and pull back onto the road.

  I’d wanted to tell my friends about my sexscapades, but I don’t need them pushing me towards a relationship.

  The glory hole guy is perfect because he’s anonymous, quick, and easy, and there’s no way to get my feelings hurt because we can hook up with whoever we want.

  Never mind the little bubble of jealousy that flares up when I imagine my mystery man hooking up with another guy.

  Damn.

  But fuck it.

  I’m not even in Bear Springs anymore, so there’s nothing I can do.

  * * *

  Eight hours later, I’m halfway through Illinois and I can’t stop thinking about the man in the stall.

  “Fuck,” I mutter, palming my cock. No thanks to my friends, I’ve been erect the entire goddamn ride, and I can’t fucking take it anymore.

  I’ve gotta come, hard and fast. Otherwise I’m going to nut in my damn blue jeans.

  I pull into a dark rest stop and park my rig. Two trucks linger in the parking lot, and I assume the men are inside, but I won’t follow them. For the first time, I have zero desire to hit up a glory hole, and even online hookup apps don’t tempt me.

  The only thing I want to do is fantasize about the mystery guy.

  I glance over my shoulder. When I’m certain no one’s following me, I beat back brush behind the rest stop and enter the woods, and when I’m sufficiently shrouded by branches, I whip out my cock.

  “Fuck,” I rasp. I beat my meat fast and violently. Pre-come spews from my tip and falls to the crunchy muddy leaves below.

  I close my eyes and suddenly I’m back in the Truck n’ Munch, next to the urinals, the stalls, the glory hole. I’m pissing in the toilet when suddenly the cock pokes through the hole, shyly, and I reach out and touch it, kiss it, dying to stimulate this cock with every fucking thing I have.

  The fantasy changes. I let out a primal grunt and pretend I’m fucking the anonymous man’s innocent mouth. “Sexy little fuck.” He’s never sucked a cock before. I’m the first man he’s been with. He’s picked me.

  My orgasm sneaks up on me, creeping up like a riptide before ripping me out to sea and sending me thrashing in waves. I cry out, bucking and moaning and emptying myself in the forest.

  My head spins with pleasure, and I’m no longer sure who I’m thinking of.

  All I can focus on is the come spewing from my cock, the need escaping my trembling body, splattering on leaves and bits of snapped twigs.

  Squeezing my cock and shooting the last of my seed on the ground, I head back to my rig, buckle my seatbelt and pull out of the rest stop.

  I’m halfway to West Virginia when I realize I have one little problem.

  When I came, I wasn’t thinking about the anonymous man in the stall. I was thinking of Logan.

  Logan

  Jax is gone.

  At first, I didn’t believe it. I mean yeah, he missed breakfast three days in a row, but maybe he was busy. Or maybe he was running low on funds and couldn’t afford the tip. Or maybe he bought Rice Krispies and ate breakfast at Sweet Dreamin’.

  But by day four, the writing was on the wall.

  Jax, my cutest customer and best tipper, with a body full of the sexiest goddamn tattoos I’ve ever seen, was gone.

  And Betty’s went right back to the boring old diner it’d been before he came.

  For my shift today, I enter Betty’s through the back, and find Mary Beth by the stainless steel dishwasher, her hands buried in suds.

  “Hey, Mary Beth.”

  Mary Beth glances up, her gray hair bobbing around her head. Her eyes are blue, and they crinkle with warmth as she shares a grandmotherly smile with me.

  But the words that tumble out of her mouth are anything but grandmotherly.

  Mary Beth gives me a once over, before directing her gaze back to mine. “Oh Jesus, this won’t work. Did someone piss in your Cheerios this morning?”

  I groan and shake my head. Instead of answering her question, I cross the recently renovated kitchen and grab my dark blue work apron from the metal hook hanging by the dishwasher, sliding it on and double-knotting it behind my back.

  The scent of fresh laundry detergent wafts up from the apron, and I realize that Betty washed it over the weekend.

  I’m eternally grateful to have a clean uniform to impress absolutely no one, because the only customer I want to impress is gone.

  I turn back to Mary Beth. “My favorite customer is gone, that’s all. I’ll get it over it.”

  Mary Beth snorts and continues scrubbing plates. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, Logan. There are plenty of customers in the sea.”

  “I know. But he’s the best tipper.”

  Mary Beth lets out a belly laugh. Then she turns to face me with a curious glint of mirth in her eyes. “Have you given any thought to my proposal?” she asks innocently, removing her hands from the soapy water and drying them on a nearby tea towel.

  She looks so adorable it almost makes me forget she keeps trying to set me up with her gay nephew.

  I scrunch my face, as if trying to remember what she’s talking about, even though I know exactly what she means.

  For the past two months, Mary Beth has been trying to convince me to take him on a date. From her, I’ve learned more about this kid's life than my own mother.

  While I can’t deny he’d make a fine boyfriend — young, slender, floppy brown hair like me — he’s not my type.

  He’s nineteen. Who the hell wants to date someone their own age?

  I smile politely, but inside I’m groaning. “I’ve been so caught up with work I haven’t had time to think it over.”

  I don’t tell Mary Beth I have zero interest in dating someone my age, or dating period, unless their name is Mr. Mystery Dick and they’re a regular at the Truck n’ Munch stalls.

  The last thing I need is a broken heart.

  Mary Beth shakes her head in disappointment. “He’s a good kid. He’s a little bratty, but he’s got a good heart.”

  My heart is feeling funny. As much as I want to help Mary Beth’s nephew find a boyfriend, I can’t force myself to like him. It’s rough, but it’s the truth.

  If only I had the balls to tell her.

  Just then, Forest waltzes in with a big annoying smile on his face, and drops an empty carafe next to Mary Beth. When he finishes, he turns to me. �
�Did someone say bratty?”

  Forest clearly heard the tail end of this conversation. But the last thing I need from him is to butt in.

  I groan and shake my head. “No, asshole. Turn around and head back to the front.”

  “I said bratty,” Mary Beth says with a snort. “But I wasn’t talking to you.”

  “Sassy lady,” Forest says with a laugh. “I’m quite bratty myself, ya know. You might wanna include me in this conversation.”

  Mary Beth shakes her head. “It’s LGBT+ only. No heterosexuals allowed.”

  Forest rolls his eyes. “Just because I’ve had a girlfriend in the past doesn’t mean I’m straight. It’s the twenty-first century. There’s such thing as bisexual, ya know.”

  Mary Beth turns to me and arches her eyebrows. “Is he telling the truth?”

  I shrug my shoulders in resignation. “I have no idea.”

  She turns to Forest. “Are you bisexual?”

  Forest nods. “I haven’t done anything with a guy, but I want to try.”

  Mary Beth lets out a squeal of delight. “Can I tell my nephew about you? I’ve been trying to hook him up with Logan, but Logan doesn’t seem interested.”

  “I am interested,” I protest. “I haven’t had a chance to meet him yet, that’s all.”

  This is also a bold-faced lie. Max, the nephew, is always at the diner.

  Every day is take-your-nephew-to-work day when your Aunt is Mary Beth.

  Forest rolls his eyes. “Don’t lie to the kind lady, Logan. She’s trying to help her nephew find love, and she doesn’t need you stringing him along.”

  I glare at Forest. I realize it’s my turn to admit that I’m crushing on someone else, thus explaining why I can’t meet up with Mary Beth’s nephew.

  But I can’t very well say I have a thing-that’s-not-totally-a-thing for a cute customer, or that I’m lusting over an anonymous cock and mouth from the Truck n’ Munch.

  Mary Beth is an ally, but I’m not sure she understands gay hookup culture, or the fact that I want to go on a date with Jax, who’s twice my age.