Christmas Day - Part 1 - Sex Stories

Christmas Day - Part 1

... for the road.

The store was packed with truck drivers from all over the country. I thought to myself that it must be a lonely existence being a long-haul trucker, away from home during the Christmas holiday. I noticed that several men were looking me over. This was exciting that they noticed me. I was wearing a short sundress. As usual, I did not have on a bra or panties. Too restrictive. I started to pour my tea at the self-serve counter when a decent-looking man struck up a conversation with me.

He was big and looked like a lumberjack with gray hair and a salt-and-pepper mustache and beard to match. I was surprised at how eloquent he was. Being a corporate attorney, I’ve never had an opportunity to have a conversation with someone who makes his living driving an eighteen-wheeler. He was fascinating, telling me about life on the road. He gave me a tour of the truck stop that so many use as a temporary home. Not only can you buy fuel, coffee, and snacks, but there is a full restaurant and buffet. The facility has a huge driver’s lounge, a game room, and private showers for professional drivers to use. I had no idea.

In our conversation, I told him that our careers are not very different and that I spend most of my time traveling. He laughed and said that he was sure our accommodations were probably very different. I smiled, just a little embarrassed. He was correct. I fly everywhere, stay in very comfortable hotels, and eat in some of the finest establishments in ...

... the country. Something about this stranger was captivating. I know this makes me sound like such a snob. He was educated, maybe not in the formal sense like I was but, he certainly was not what I would have expected from a truck driver.

We were walking around the building and we never knew each other’s names. Finally, I introduced myself. He smiled and let me know his name was Brian. He was based out of Ontario, Canada. The only thing that ran through my mind was, I knew it. He was a lumberjack. So silly. As we walked around, he was telling me about spending six to ten weeks at a time on the road. It sounded difficult. I asked if it got uncomfortable. His response was surprising. A resounding no. He described his truck. It sounded like an expensive motor home. Then, he invited me to see it. I had no schedule and no place to be, so I happily agreed.

Hundreds of trucks were parked, rows lined up in straight formation as if waiting to attack. The colors and sizes were impressive. After passing at least fifty trucks, we came to a powder blue rig with a red Peterbilt emblem on the hood. This thing was massive. It was attached to a very long trailer. It was loaded with, what else? Lumber! I asked if I could see the inside. Brian was more than happy to give me a tour. As I climbed up the passenger side, he was kind enough to help me up. I am sure he was able to take a peek up my dress. His strong hand grabbed me by the ass, squeezed it, and hurled me up in the cab. As he touched ...