Having fed on my cock and ass inside his truck cab, the trucker had let out a howl I was sure could be heard all over the rest stop.
"Man that was good. That's one tasty cock and ass you've got, Dude," he exclaimed.
I pulled my leg from around his back, turned around, moved over and above him, and straddled his lap, between him and the steering wheel. This apparently caught him completely by surprised. My cock, now only half hard, lay on top of his, and I encircled them both in my hand, looked him in the eye, and said. "And so, Mr. Mac Truck, what can I do for you now?"
"What?" he said in reply. "Do for me? Do more than you've done, what you've let me do? Hey, guy, I know you're a rich, young BMW owner and an Apollo to boot and I'm just an old truck jockey. You've already surprised the hell out of me on what you've let me do. I don't expect more than that for a ride to the beach."
"But, what would you really like to do to me?" I asked, squeezing our cocks together with one hand and tracing the design of his tattoo across his left breast with the other hand, lightly brushing across an erect nipple.
"Why, I'd like to fuck your brains out, of course," he flipped out, as if it was a joke, something beyond comprehension or possibility.
"No problem," I shot back.
"You serious?" he responded in disbelief.
"Absolutely. Right here, right now. No problem."
"Hot damn," he yelled. And then he took command again. "Turn yourself around," he said. And while I was doing that, he opened the glove compartment, took out some ointment and a condom, and began lathering up my asshole.
When I was turned around, I leaned into the steering wheel, which sounded the horn. We both laughed, as he reached over, pushed a button on the dash, and the horn stopped blaring. I crouched there, suspended above him, hugging the steering wheel, while he sheathed his long cock and brought its head into position, and then I slowly descended on him, taking him in slowly. I could feel the slight crock in his cock bring the head of his dick against the upper wall of my ass canal, and I gasped and felt some precum bubble up from my own cock as his dick head dragged along my prostate. He was muttering that we should take it slow, to permit me to open to him, but, truth be known, he was not nearly as big as Carl was, so I wasn't having all that much trouble accommodating him. Both he and I could feel my sphincter take the head of his cock and pull him into me, and we both moaned and sighed with pleasure in unison. He wasn't as big as Carl, but he was longer, and I felt him gliding up inside me for what seemed to be ages before I settled into his lap.
We both held it there for a moment, suspended in time and pleasure, but he then started to writhe under me. I came up and back down a couple of times to help him get into a rhythm, but then I held myself up, wrapped around the steering wheel and let him pump me from below. He worked himself into a frenzy, his hands wandering all over me, while his hips worked their way up and down in an ever-faster motion. And he moaned and cussed and told me how good I was and how much pleasure I was giving him in no uncertain words and in loud tones. When I felt him cum, I sat back into his lap, and he wrapped his arms around my chest, buried his face in the small of my back, thanked me again, and whispered something I didn't quite get.
"What was that?" I asked.
"I told you we had other ways of exercising on the road," he said in a louder voice.
"No, I mean that noise outside."
The door beside us was jerked open, and a voice boomed out, "We sure do like to exercise on the road, Dudes. Make some noise, why don't ya? You had us over here with the horn honk."
There stood three of the burliest men I'd ever seen, led by a bald, heavily muscled wrestler type with a mighty big grin.
"I want some of that myself," the man mountain said, as he pulled me off Mac's dick and hauled me down from the truck. Before either Mac or I could do or say anything, this guy and a shorter, stockier guy were carrying me away from the truck, while the third man was arguing with Mac and pushing his way into the cab. While I was being hauled away, I saw Mac turned sideways and on his back, his feet looking for purchase on the frame of the cab door, and a big, top-heavy trucker, his pants down around his knees pushing himself into the cab opening and into Mac's ass as well.
"Just I minute," the little guy said, arresting the movement of the bald guy who had me well under control. "I want to see this."
We stood there in an entangled bunch, while Mac rose up and appeared in the door of the cab briefly, until the bigger guy backhanded him across the mouth and back down across the seats. The trucker was standing up on the running board. He kicked his pants off and tore his T-shirt up and over his massive shoulders. He was standing there just in his construction worker's boots, and even I could see that he looked magnificent from behind. The big, bulky shoulders tapered down to a small waist, but his hips carried bulbous butt cheeks, and his thighs and calves were heavily muscled. His hands went into the cab and Mac's jeans came out and were thrown onto the ground. Mac must have tried to crawl back across the seat, because his legs disappeared and one of the big guy's knees went up onto the edge of the seat so that I could see big hairy balls and a pendulous, thick dong hanging down between his legs.
I heard a loud command and another heavy slap, and Mac's legs and lower butt appeared at the cab door again. He was still on his back. The big guy forced Mac's right leg through the truck door window and cranked the window up to hold his leg there and splayed his left leg up and between the truck cab side and a side bar on the other side of the door. He now had two free hands and Mac trapped in place. One hand got busy finger and fist-fucking Mac's asshole and taking time out occasionally to push Mac back down on the seat, and the other one was engaged in vigorously working up his own cock, and eventually, in guiding his cock to Mac's hole. And then, after he had plunged in, both hands went to squeezing and slapping Mac's butt cheeks in rhythm with his pumping action. He had one foot on the running board and the other one up on the edge of the cab floor and, with this leverage, was pumping away at Mac's butt like a piston on an oil rig. Mac was hollering through this for all he was worth.
My own big guy apparently couldn't hold off with his own action any longer. He had been holding me with one arm and squeezing something big under the fabric of his pants crotch. He suddenly gave out an animal sound and dragged me away from the truck, with stubby Zack following along behind, in reverse, watching the action in Mac's truck for as long as he could.
I was carried into the brush just beyond the nose of the truck and slapped down hard on my back on top of an old picnic table in what had once been a small clearing, now obviously abandoned.
"Look what we got here, Zack," the bald one said, "A real looker; pretty face and fine bod. This is going to be fun."
I started to come up off the table and cursed him and he struck me across the mouth with the back of his hand, not real hard, but hard enough for me to get the point. He then pushed me back on the table with a big mitt on my chest, and I had the good sense to stay there.
"Git behind him, Zack. Keep his arms and mouth busy."
