I Sucked His Cock for Money . . .

[حلمات]

DAMN!!!! My old Mustang had finally given up the ghost a ways back.

Even though it had begun to rain, I was too scared to stay in the broken-down car on this desolate highway alone at night, so I halfheartedly decided to get out and walk. After maybe another thirty minutes of vacillating, I finally got out and started walking in the now pummeling rain, positive there had to be a truck stop further up the highway. I must have walked almost a mile without seeing a car when I saw the tall neon sign for the Petro Truck Stop in the distance.

I finally made it to the truck stop and entered the café. It had been raining off and on by the time I stumbled into the almost empty truck stop café, looking more like a drowned rat than an attractive twenty-two year old graduate student. I looked around and saw a few truckers seated at the tables, catching a quick meal or hot coffee before returning to the road.

Despite my bedraggle appearance, I could feel the truckers eyeing me when I came through the door. My naturally blonde hair hung in a thick, wet braid down my back, damp ringlets having formed around my face. My jacket was drenched and soaked through from the rain. When I took my wet jacket off, I was little aware of how the dampness and chill made my nipples stand erect, hard and brown tipped, against my wet clinging blouse. More embarrassing was the camel toe that was outlined by my wet skirt clinging to my thighs and hips, eliciting blatant, lascivious stares from some of the men. Feeling self-conscious and uneasy, I sat down at an empty booth.

*****
I sat there for a few minutes, shivering, hungry, and tired, trying to figure out what I should do and whom I could call for help. I looked up and saw one of the truckers standing next to my booth. Middle-aged, tall, with the beginnings of a beer belly, a day's growth of beard, and kind but tired gray eyes.

"Here, he said, offering me his thick flannel jacket. Put this on; you look like you need it."

"Thank you," I said softly as I slipped into the warmth of his jacket as he turned and walked over to the counter. When he came back, he placed a hot cup of coffee in front of me and sat down.

"My name is Jack. You look like you could use a little help. Can I help?" He asked.

"I'm Madison," I said.

I looked at him, wanting to trust him, needing to tell someone about everything I had been through within the last several hours. Out of frustration, I blurted out everything: the broken car, locking my purse and phone inside the car, no money, and the long, wet walk. By the time I finished, I was on the brink of tears.

"Everything will be okay. There's no need to cry. I have a girl about your age, and I would want someone to help her if she ever found herself in a similar situation. I'm sure I can help you . . . okay?"

*****
Jack sat there watching me while he made casual conversation. "You know, I do extended hauls, and I'm away from home and my family for long stretches of time; it gets lonely, real lonely out here," he said, now watching me intently, expectantly.

"It's good when you meet someone you like right off and want to get to know . . . someone you want to be nice to. I can be nice to you, Madison. I know you need a little money. All you have to do is be nice to me."

I looked across the table at him, momentarily puzzled, not sure what he was talking about, and then the meaning became all too clear.

Jack said he would give me two hundred dollars if I would let him put it in my mouth, put his cock in my mouth. Though initially surprised by his proposition, I remember thinking two hundred dollars was a lot of money. It was obvious Jack didn't want a regular truck stop working girl; he wanted a nice, clean, pretty little college girl who reminded him of perhaps his daughter or one of her friends.

"All right, Jack, okay," I said after thinking it over.

Taking my hand, Jack led me into one of the stalls in the back shower area. I could feel the knowing stares of the other truckers following us. As Jack ushered me into the stall and began to close the stall door, I tried to pull back, now having second thoughts.

Holding my wrist tighter, he growled intimidatingly, "You got your money; now give me what I paid you for, little girl."

*****
Resigned to the bargain I had made, kneeling in front of him, I watched Jack unzip and free himself. I took his cock in my hand and slid it between my lips, my tongue licked the head of his cock, and I looked up at him as Jack moaned from deep in his chest.

"Such a pretty little girl," he kept repeating as he entwined my thick blond hair in his hands and put pressure on the back of my head, wanting me to take his entire length into my mouth and down my throat. Just wanting to get it over with, I didn't resist but willed myself to relax and let Jack slide his cock down my throat. He controlled my head as he started to fuck my mouth, slow and then quick, increasing his tempo. I was used to having my boyfriend push his cock down my throat, and so I figured I could deal with Jack for another minute or two.

Jack started thrusting hard, grunting and moaning loudly, and I was worried someone might hear. I knew he was on the edge, and all it took was lightly squeezing his balls for him to explode and cum in hard spurting jets.

I was frankly surprised at the amount of cum that came out of him, and as he continued to hold my head in position, my throat muscles contracted around his cock, and he filled my mouth, leaving me no choice but to swallow most of his load even as his overflow cum dribbled out of my mouth.

*****
Jack combed his fingers through my soft, blond hair, mumbling, "Oh my God, you have a beautiful mouth," as he held my face and thrust forward a final time, ejaculating the last of his cum into my mouth and then with a groan pulled out.

I reached up and wiped the dripping cum away with the back of my hand. With lust filled eyes, Jack looked at me hungrily before adjusting his pants and walking out of the stall.