Truck Stop Whore - Sex Stories

Truck Stop Whore

My husband Josh (27) and I (24) have been married about four years. He is a long distance truck driver, so for most of those years he has been away. I’m not complaining, he does make good money, and when he’s home our sex life is mediocre. He is always so tired. It seems to be a chore for him at times. He’s your typical, ‘wham bam thank you ma’am type,’ then rolls over and falls asleep. Most of the time, I cry myself to sleep in frustration. I just need a little more excitement and enthusiasm. Now with the holidays approaching he is taking on more loads. I know he’s doing it to get extra money for Christmas. He wants to buy me a diamond wedding band to replace the cheap pawn store gold band I’ve been wearing. Back then, that was all we could afford and I was happy to have it. He just informed me that he has to haul a load from Daytona Beach, where we live, to San Francisco. He wants me to take the trip with him so we can celebrate our anniversary together. I look at him like he has three heads. Granted his rig is really nice. It has a Queen bed, TV and all the bells and whistles. But that means staying at those nasty truck stops and I wasn’t sure I was quite up to that. “I’ll make it real special for you baby, I promise.” He said almost begging. How could I resist those baby blue eyes? So of course I agree to be his passenger. We pack up the truck with all the extra necessities I would need. Before dawn we are on the road and all is going well. We make our first stop in ...

... Montgomery, Alabama (455 miles from home.) We gas up, eat and pick up some munchies. We are now heading to Gulfport, Mississippi for the night. Josh says, “The Flying J truck stop has nice showers, clean bathrooms and even a pretty fancy restaurant.” Oh goody, I can’t wait. Somehow his idea of nice and fancy doesn’t always match up to how I would describe it. But he was trying so I have to give him the benefit of the doubt. Two hundred ten miles later we pull into the Flying J. It looks like a regular truck stop to me. It isn’t too crowded and from the outside seems fairly decent. Josh pulls the rig into a spot not close to the other truckers. We have our own little ‘piece of Paradise’ as Josh calls it. Not sure about Paradise, but we do have privacy. Josh checks in at the office and to see which showers were available to us. I gather my toiletries and wait anxiously for him to return. “Good news babe, you get the shower with the red door, your favorite color. This must be a good sign of things to come.” He says, with a serious face. “Oh really, I can hardly wait.” I say, sarcastically “Babe, you go ahead. I have a few things to check out on the truck and I will meet you there.” I grab my stuff and go. A sign shows men’s to the left and women’s the right. I walk in and realize that the showers are separated by a thin wall. If I listen carefully I can hear conversation from the men’s stalls. Naturally, the red door shower is the last one on the left. The one light bulb that is ...