Everyday Screw The Truck Stop

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Three fifteen in the morning was my favorite time of day. That might sound odd coming from a waiter at a truck stop, but it's the truth. The bar rush was over, the place was mostly cleaned up, and the restaurant was generally quiet as a tomb. It also marked the 7th hour of my shift, and that made it all the better.

None of that was what made 3:15 any better than any other time, however. What made 3:15 so damn good was Cindy Lewiston.

Cindy always came in at 3:15, give or take a minute. She was always wearing her scrubs, fresh from her shift at Mercy Hospital. She was always tired, but she still smiled and we talked a little; she was almost always my only customer at that time of the night. Her long, wavy raven hair was either down or falling out of the bun she kept it in for work, giving her the sexiest disheveled look I have ever seen a woman wear. The mane of dark hair she sported framed her face perfectly; she didn't tan in the winter, but was out as much as time would let her be in the summer. Her tan didn't fade until almost February, and in our part of the world, her skin muted from its bronze beauty to a delicious creamy white for only a few months before her sunbathing began in the spring again.

The things I remember most about Cindy are her emerald eyes, and her pouting lips. She never wore eyeliner, and never used lipstick. Her natural beauty would have simply been concealed by them.

After months of her coming in and making small talk, she came in one morning, looking about like she was going to collapse. I brought her a cup of coffee a little faster than normal and sat down with her. She cradled her head in her hand, her hair falling around her face in a thick curtain.

"Here you go," I said sliding the coffee across the table. Her usual compliment of two creams and a sugar joined the cup in front of her before she even looked up.

"Thanks," she mumbled, the utterance followed by a heavy snuff of her nose. She sat up a little, pushing those glorious black strands up. She was crying. It looked like she had been crying for a while. The cream and sugar was forgone for the power of straight coffee. My face turned to a mask of concern as she drained half the cup.

"You ever have one of those days, Brandon?" she asked, her eyes rolling up to mine for the first time since she sat down. They lingered there for a second, those emeralds, and they burned a hole right into my soul. The whole thing almost made me want to shiver, both out of concern and out of excitement.

"I think everyone's got those days, Cindy," I said reassuringly. Cindy half smiled and drank some more of her coffee. The smile faded as the cup hit the table. She fished something out of her scrubs, a folded piece of paper, and flopped it down on the table before me. She meekly pushed it toward me and I gingerly picked it up. I unfolded it and written in a man's hasty handwriting was the following: "Cindy, I think somewhere inside, I still love you. If I do, I can no longer get to that place. By the time you read this at the end of your shift, I will have moved on." I let out a low moan of disapproval and anger and slid the note across the table to her.

"Does everyone have days like these?" Cindy asked, draining the last of her coffee. Her eyes welled up with tears and they fell freely this time, not just the one or two that had stained her cheeks before.

"It'll be okay," I said optimistically. "Things like this happen for a reason and life has a funny way of working out." I rubbed her shoulder and got the coffee pot from the burner. She leaned into my hand for a second and let out a sigh from the brief contact.

"So, no cream or sugar tonight?" I asked, watching as I filled the cup between her anxiously waiting hands. She shook her head and as soon as I was done pouring she pulled the cup up to her mouth with a hand on each side of it and took a deep drink. The cup returned to the table and she tucked a few loose strands of that fantastic hair behind her ears. She sat at the table, hunched over her coffee, her arms at her sides.

"Huh? Oh, the coffee? No, not tonight. I thought I might need something bitter like my mood," she said and half-smiled. The smile faded fast and she went back to staring straight at her cup.

"Need anything to eat, anything else to drink, anything at all?" I asked, trying to sound empathetic and helpful. I really did care for this beauty's predicament; I hate to see women in bad places, especially pretty ones that make my day better every day. I figured I should probably return the favor if I could.

"I could use more of that backrub," she said meekly, her eyes shifting to mine. A small smile peaked the corners of her mouth and in that instant she looked extremely sexy.

"I'm really not supposed to," I said. "Company policy and all...but I think I'll make an exception tonight." Her face lit up a little bit and she slid sideways in the booth, tucking her knees up to her chin and her arms wrapped around her legs. I sat sideways next to her and started gently rubbing her shoulders.

"That feels really good," she said quietly. "You must give a lot of these," she continued and rolled her shoulders under my hands. I kept working her muscles, starting at her neck and moving out, rolling them with my palms and fingers and thumbs.

"I used to," I said, leaning in, letting my breath tickle across her exposed ear. She took in a sharp breath but didn't pull away. My hands moved slowly lower, my fingers pressing and rubbing along her shoulder blades with my palms slowly rubbing on either side of her spine.

"Why'd you ever stop?" she asked, her voice in almost a dream-like state. My hands were almost moving on their own now, the motions coming back to them automatically.

"My girlfriend moved out, I haven't had once since...it's kinda hard to find girls willing to accept a guy that works nights," I said with a hint of sadness.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know," she said slowly, sighing again. My palms were to her bra strap and with a subconscious motion, the worked together, pushing and twisting at the same time and the catches on the back popped rapidly. I didn't even know I had done it until I felt her bra shift under my hands.

"Oh, um, hey, I'm sorry about that," I said sincerely.

"Oh don't worry about it," she said and squirmed side to side a little. "It feels better without it, anyway." She pulled an arm into her sleeve and pulled the strap off that side. Her arm popped back out and she reached up her other sleeve and pulled the bra out of it and it landed unceremoniously on the table.

My mind exploded with the kinds of fabric and patterns and colors that made up that bra. An eternity passed between her pulling her arm inside her scrubs and the bra hitting the table. It couldn't have been more than a few seconds, but I know I didn't breathe for any of them. My eyes were glued to where that hand was going as it came back out of her top and snaked up her sleeve. My heart was galloping like a race horse as it came out, inch by delicious inch, time slowing down for my eyes.

It was a simple, black cotton bra. It had full cups on it, no under wires—not that her tight little chest needed that much support—and no frills. It was a simple, black bra, built for as much comfort as possible without being expensive.

Somehow, even that was still damn sexy; and sexy or not, it was the first piece of randomly discarded lingerie I had seen in many months.

My hands must have stopped moving for a moment; I felt her shift under them trying to coax them back to life and I heard her clear her throat.

"Oh, sorry," I said, probably blushing. She let out a little giggle; the first real sign of happiness since she came in tonight.

"Don't worry about it," she half-whispered. My hands started exploring the flesh where the bra straps had been, rubbing and teasing the muscles into relaxation. She moaned softly and leaned forward a little further. "I don't see how any girl could leave someone who gives back rubs like this, even if he worked nights," she said huskily. My cock stirred in my pants and my brain exploded with the implications of what she just said.

"Oh yeah?" I asked softly, my hands working slowly around the top of her back to just under her arms where the bra was digging into her soft skin. She leaned back toward me a little bit and sighed.

"Yeah," she said and leaned back a little further. I moved my hands further along her ribs so that my fingers could just barely tease her liberated breasts under her cotton top, still under the guise of a back rub, but neither one of us was fooled. Her hands came down, still trying to give mine access to her firm tight tits and she found my crotch, dick almost rock hard inside my work pants.

"Hey, I thought I was the one doing the rubbing," I said, my breath tickling up and down her neck and ear.

"Maybe I'll have to find something else to do then," she said, running her fingernails along my contained cock. My hands went to her chest, massaging her small breasts, pinching the nipples between my fingers and rolling them lightly. I caught a glimpse of us in the reflection of the window, she obviously feeling me up and my hands mauling her tit flesh.

"Maybe we'll have to find some place else to do it then," I suggested, running my hands under her scrub top and back up to her tits, pushing the fabric up ahead of them. I focused back on the window again and her little pink nipples were on display for all to see, my fingers teasing, pleasing, and punishing them softly. Anyone driving by could have seen us, any customer coming in would have immediately known what we were doing, and for the first time in my life I was actually glad that this place is so quiet at this time of the morning.

Cindy let out a moan of approval and I grudgingly pulled my legs out of the seat and my cock out of her reach. She followed suit, chasing after me to the walk-in cooler. I sped up and then slowed down, letting her catch me. She grabbed my shirt, laughing a little and I spun in her grasp, our mouths hungrily reaching for each others, our tongues exploring each other's mouths the second our lips locked. Her hands were exploring my body, squeezing my ass and pulling her crotch against mine. My hands weren't idle either, running under her scrub pants to finally, after months of needing to, feeling her tight little nurse's ass.

Some how, I managed to get the cooler door open and we rolled inside after remaining miraculously unseen by the night cook. I shut the door and locked it from the inside; the glow-in-the dark patches on the wall provided all the light we needed. She fell to her knees and had my pants undone and down enough for my cock to spring out, nearly hitting her in the face.

Not a word was said as her tongue teased the very tip of my glans, just a low moan from me and a happy teasing hum from her. Her lips softly consumed the tip that she licked, but her tongue kept working, swirling around my raging hardon as she slowly swallowed and worked it, millimeter by millimeter. The time it took her to work my 7 inches down her throat was centuries longer than it took her to pull her bra out, but it was worth every second of it. I could feel her throat contracting around my head buried in it, her mouth was squeezing my dick better than any pussy I'd ever had, and her sweet, sweet tongue was still wrapping itself around my shaft. I moaned louder, trying not to grab her head, letting her work her magic.

I was almost ready to cum, her slurping sounds in the silence of the cooler were only encouraging me to dump my load down her throat, and then she started to hum. I'd never had a hummer before, and after that I'd have to make a note to never have anything less. The sensations rocked my body like electricity; my knees went weak and I had to grab onto the racks to keep from falling over.

"Oh my god, you're going to kill me!" I whispered. She laughed a little and hummed a little harder, starting to slide her mouth back off my dick, releasing slower than she swallowed it. I looked down and I could see her saliva shining back in the pale green lights of the cooler. My cock started throbbing in her mouth and she locked her lips down tighter to keep it from bouncing out. At last, after having to concentrate on anything but what was going on to keep from cuming, I heard and felt my dick jump free, leaving that glorious mouth with a pop that almost echoed in the cold of the walk-in.

"Oh, I couldn't kill you, not without you being in this first," she said. I had to force my eyes to focus after the blow job I just got, but the sound reached my ears before the sight was registered by my brain. All the time she was giving my first hummer, she had been fingering herself, and now I could hear her fingers splashing sloppily in the juice her pussy was oozing.

A crooked grin was on my face and she leaned back a little so I could get a better look at her hand moving in her scrub pants. Seeing only her knuckles and hand move in those loose cotton pants was almost as exciting to me as being able to see the whole thing. My dick started to bob and throb and she giggled.

"No, don't cum yet. I have to feel this in me," she said huskily and rolled up off the floor. I looked over to the beer kegs in the corner and she bounced over to them, I followed quickly with my dick leading me like a divining rod. She started to pulled her top off, showing me the first good look I'd had at those twin mounds. They looked spectacular in the dim lighting, her nipples standing at full attention, a little higher than the center of her breasts and a little to the outside; perfect for sucking. She started to pull her scrub pants and panties down and I shook my head.

"But," she said, sticking her lower lip out in a pout. I turned her around and bent her over the cold metal kegs and pulled her pants and panties down to her knees. I knew I wasn't going to last long, especially not after the blow job and then seeing this sexy creature strip for me. Seeing the miles of leg appear before me with her little pussy peeking just below her puckered rosebud wasn't helping. I wanted to make her cum at least once, I figured it was the least I could do. She moaned as my hands roamed back up her thighs and my finger dipped into her smoldering honey pot, coming out covered in her sticky wetness.

"Don't tease, I need it. I need you," she said, placing tremendous emphasis on the 'you'. I smiled and brought my dick to her anxiously waiting pussy lips and rubbed it up and down her slit, getting the tip coated in her cream. "Don't tease," she begged, spreading her thighs a little further apart, granting me more room to her box.

"Who said anything about teasing?" I said, pushing my dick slowly into her pussy. At the same time I pushed my cum coated finger into her puckered ass, at the same speed. Her body rocked forward, her nipples raking against the cold metal of the kegs.

We exploded. I don't know who screamed louder or who moaned longer, but it was a simultaneous eruption of orgasmic bliss. Her pussy started to convulse like a humming bird's wings around my throbbing cock as it buried itself fully in her love nest. Her ass contracted and relaxed around my finger like a fish out of water, gasping for breath.

I felt and heard her hot pink box squirt cum at the same time I felt my cock swell to shoot its first load of my hot jizz in her womb. Her cunt squeezed my dick, she squirted again, I squirted again. Her pussy convulsed and squirted, my rod throbbed and shot. I lost all track of time and thought, my body lost in the sensations it was having. My legs were quivering, my knees buckling, and it took everything I had to keep standing and stay in this beauty.

My heart was going like a jack hammer and her pussy was still spasming around my dick; that was the first thing I felt when I came back to reality. I knew I was wilting, though I couldn't figure out why, so I pulled slowly out of her, withdrawing my finger at the same time. She moaned, half in lust, half in disappointment as I came free, her pussy letting loose a gushy slurch of fuck fluid, the thick wad of our cum squirting out of her tight pussy like a miniature geyser of thick milk. After the first squirt, her cream pie started oozing down her slit and rolling to her exposed clit, the contact of the fluid making her quivering legs twitch. It dripped off her, making a puddle on the floor.

"Oh my God," she said, the first one to speak coherently in I didn't know how long. "So good," she said and reached between her legs to feel her sloppy pussy, still dripping with our cum. She let out a long, low moan and stood up.

"Thank you," she said, kissing me lightly on the cheek. She pulled her cum soaked pants back up her legs, my eyes devouring the flesh as fast as the cotton. She giggled a little and said something under her breath that sounded like "Mmm, squishy."

I was still in shock. I watched her pick up her top and pull it back on, looking over her shoulder at me, her raven locks still dazzling, even in the pale light. My brain was trying to come back from its vacation, but it was so slow.

Cindy unlocked the door and pushed it open. She stood in the light for a second, looking like an angel bathed in the kitchen's harsh yellow light. A curious smile crossed her face with a look of triumph.

"Thank you, come again, any time," was all I could muster, my brain's automatic salutation kicking in. She laughed and I let out a little chuckle.

"I think I will," she said, and the cooler door closed, leaving me to revel in what just happened.