Hauling freight through the Rockies is never fun in the winter time. Hell, even in the summer, it's no picnic. The pay is really good though, so that's why I do it. Plus the scenery can be spectacular.
Speaking of scenery, there was a very memorable experience that I had about ten years ago while making the trek from Denver to L.A. It was late January and I should have taken the Southern route, but I prefer the mountains of Colorado and Utah to the desert of New Mexico and Arizona. The weather report said that it would be blue skies along I-70, so I headed due West.
Unfortunately, those blue skies turned to ominous dark clouds in a heartbeat. Such is life in the Rockies. Once the sun set, the snow started to fly. When visability became non-existant, I exited the highway in search of a good meal. The stress of trying to control 18 wheels over mountain passes always makes me hungry.
Like an oasis in the desert, The Broken Spoke Diner appeared over the next rise. Once parked, I made my way into this fine establishment along the trail. Of course a hush came over the restaurant as I found myself a table in the back corner. At six foot three, 220 pounds of lean muscle, I often create an uneasiness wherever I go. I'm sure the black cowboy hat and six gun hanging low on my hip doesn't help the public feel more at ease. I can't help it, my grandpa intoduced me to Clint Eastwood westerns at a young age.
After I seated myself facing the door, I scanned my new surroundings. Just a little habit I picked up while doing Uncle Sam's dirty work over seas. A family of seven was seated at a table in the center of the restaurant. A tall, skinny female with jet black hair was behind the bar. A couple drunks sat on stools across from her chatting her up. I heard the usual kitchen noise coming from behind two swinging doors to the left of the bar and that was it. I guess the weather had scared away the regular dinner crowd.
Now to the beautiful scenery I spoke of earlier. Out of the kitchen, a buxom little blond carrying a tray full of food and beverages appeared. I estimated her age between 18 and 21. She reminded me of a young Reese Witherspoon. As she was unloading the tray at the table of seven, she looked over her shoulder at me and said she'd be right over to take my order. She did a double take and almost spilled the remaining contents of the tray on the families patriarch. Situations like this happen frequently around me but I never tire of them.
The little filly regained her composure and headed my way.
"What can I get you Cowboy?"
"How do you know my name little girl?" I replied
"Lucky guess" came her retort.
What do you know, a pretty young thing with some spunk! Most girls her age can barely put two words together when in my presence. And the tight t-shirt she was wearing said "Try My Cherry Pie!" It was even tied up under her ample breasts revealing a flat stomach and a pierced belly button. This night just improved tenfold.
"Bring me a burger, side of rings and a bottle of Coors. While you're at it, lose the bra."
"l'll think about it Cowboy."
And she gave me a wink, turned on her heal and headed back to the kitchen. As I watched her exit, I detected an extra wiggle in her walk as she retreated to the kitchen. It's at that moment I knew she would be mine. This wasn't my 1st rodeo. I could recognize a female in heat from a mile away.
I turned my attention to my phone to check on the weather report. The storm was now a full fledged blizzard. It looked like I'd be hunkering down in the sleeper cab of my rig and I was confident that I wouldn't be alone.
Soon enough, my future conquest came bounding out of the kitchen with my order. To my pleasant surprise, she not only sat my meal down in front of me, but also sat herself right down across from me. Leaning in close, she looked me dead in the eye, helped herself to one of my rings and said;
"Looks like it's only me and you cowboy."
Sure enough, the family had exited, but the bar wench and drunks remained.
I nodded towards the bar and said, "What about them? Don't they count?"
"Oh, that's just my cousin Becky Jo and a couple losers with nothing better to do."
Staring directly at her chest, I said that I was glad that she obeyed my directive.
"Don't flatter yourself Cowboy, my girls were feeling quite restrained well before your suggestion."
"Believe what you need to little girl. All I know for sure is that your girls seem very excited to meet me. Ironically, my friend Mr. Johnson is growing to like you too. Why don't you go get yourself a beer and we'll share this fine cuisine."
When she returned, she sat right next to me. her one hand went to the food and the other to the bulge in my jeans.
"I like your friend. He seems like he may be too confined in those tight britches of yours. Here, let me help him out."
With that, she deftly unbottoned, unzipped and freed the object of her desire.
"You have some skills young lady."
"You ain't seen nothing yet Cowboy."
Without missing a beat, she proceeded to stroke my cock with one hand while eating my rings with the other. I was going to have to teach her some manners.
Noticing that my beer was all but gone, I hollared "Hey Becky Jo, would you mind bringing me another beer? It seems your little cousin has her hands full over here."
A puzzled expression crossed Becky Jo's face, but she dutifully brought me a fresh beer. Once she saw what her mischievous cousin was doing under the table, a wide grin replaced her annoyed countenance.
"Looks like you're trying to earn a bigger tip Jessie girl!"
"It does have a bigger tip... and shaft, doesn't it? I can't even get my hand around it! It is way bigger than the pea shooter your husband of packs."
You should know you little slut. It was shameful that you sucked him off on New Years Eve."
"Are you still mad about that? I said I was sorry and besides we were both pretty fucked up that night. I think you should get him back by taking this big cowboy's cock in your mouth."
I've seen and heard some crazy stuff in my time, but these ladies' conversation almost had me dumbfounded. The wheels in my head started to spin real fast.
So the waitress was Jessie and the bar wench was Becky Jo. They were cousins and obviously very open-minded about sex. Becky Jo was married to a cheater and up close, she was a tall drink of sexy. This evening just got even better!
While I was doing all this thinking, Becky Jo got down on her knees to give Mr. Johnson a taste. She licked the pre cum off of the tip, athen ran her tongue up and down the underside of the shaft and then took all 8 down her throat.
Then she stood up as if she was just tying her shoelace and said, "There you go Jess, that's how it's done. I'm sure that Jason was disappointed in your lack of skills.
After her little quip, Becky Jo sauntered back to the bar. Of coure I watched that tight ass and long legs make their exit. Clearing her throat and squeezing my balls, Jessie asked me if I had saved any room for dessert.
"Considering that you ate all my rings, I'm still quite ravenous. But I think I'll have my cherry pie in the truck."
With that, I rose from my seat, tucked Mr. Johnson back in his prison, threw Jessie over my shoulder and strode for the door.
