Truckstop Whore – Jessie gets a Daddy - Sex Stories

Truckstop Whore – Jessie gets a Daddy

... looking me over. I shift from one foot to the other as his tongue darts out and slides across his bottom lip.

“What kind of pie?”

“Cherry?” I don’t know why I say it like a question, but he grins a little like he’s pleased by my answer.

“That’s my favorite.” He leans close, and I’m so nervous, I don’t dare move an inch. He’s like a wild animal, and I’m afraid he’ll chase me if I run. “Think you could hold still while I eat it?”

I’m scribbling doodles on my notepad so I can avoid meeting his gaze. What does that even mean? “Um, I’m not sure.” My laugh is forced, and I want to go crawl under the counter and hide from this man. I’m not really scared of him, but something about him is scary.

“I bet it’s real fresh, ain’t it?” When he reaches for me, I’m unable to take a step back before his big hand gently rests on my hip. “How much?”

“It's on special today,” I stammer and then swallow hard.

“I heard some of y’all got rooms out back. Think you could let me have it in there?”

Oh, this must be how the girls make their extra money. Although I don’t know why truckers would want to eat in the bunk houses because they’re not really that nice. It would be stupid to turn down any extra money right now because I’m saving all my pennies to get the hell out of here.

“Absolutely.” I smile a little, and when I do his fingers on my hip flex in a possessive grip. “I get off in about twenty minutes.”

“Go on to the kitchen and box me something up. I’ll meet you ...

... around back after your shift.” When he stands, he towers over me, and I have to crane my neck all the way back to look up at him. “I’ll be waitin’ for you.”

His big hand comes up, and I don’t flinch away as he cups my face in the most gentle caress. I don’t know if I’ve ever been touched so sweetly, and against all my instincts, I lean into his palm.

“That’s what I thought,” he says more to himself than me.

When his hand drops away, I feel the loss of it and have to blink a few times to snap back to reality.

“Order up!” Waylon shouts like he’s been saying it for a while, and by the time I realize it, Big Otto is already out the door.

To my complete shock, I see a few hundred dollars bills lying on the table where Big Otto was sitting, and I glance around to see if anyone else has noticed as I hurry to tuck them in my bra. One of the older waitresses, Thelma, told me anytime someone left a big tip to stick it in my bra and keep my mouth shut. It’s never happened before tonight, and I’m nearly buzzing with the thrill of it.

“Jessie!” Waylon yells, and I scurry around the counter. “Christ, if I gotta keep hollering at you I’ll get someone else to do your fuckin’ job.”

“Sorry,” I mumble as I take the order to another table and check on my customers. I don’t like that Waylon talks to me that way, but he does it to everyone, so I shouldn’t take it personally. Thelma told me to ignore him, but it’s hard when it’s just the two of us here.

While I’m closing out the ...