The Neighbor’s Cab

Ubicación: A-8 — Spain

Zona / Ruta: A-8

País: Spain

Tipo de lugar: Rest Area, Truck

Protagonistas: Truck Driver

Horario: Afternoon

Idioma: English

I’d been driving since Oviedo with my head on the motorway and my body begging for a break. The A-8 around there is proper beautiful, flat, green as far as the eye can see, but it’s too many hours on the road and my arse was feeling it. I pulled off at Novellana, parked the Volvo between two other wagons and got down to stretch my legs.

There was another bloke parked a bit further up, one of those white owner-driver Mercedes, loaded to the brim with what looked like wooden pallets. The driver was outside, leaning against his cab, having a smoke. Early forties, heavy build, work overalls unzipped right down to his chest. He looked at me when I got down. I looked back, like.

I didn't head over straight away. Went to the loo, washed my face, took a minute. When I came back he was still in the exact same spot but he’d finished his smoke. He’d watched me walk back. That told me enough, proper.

I stopped right next to him with the excuse of looking at the sky, which was looking like rain from the northwest. "It’s gonna chuck it down before Ribadeo," I said. "Aye," he replied. Nowt else. But he didn’t move away.

We stood there like that for a second, both staring at nothing, and then he just nodded his head towards his cab. No words. I climbed up first.

Inside it smelled of tobacco, pine air freshener, and a man who’s been on the road for days. Smelled proper good. I shut the door and he was already stripping his overalls off his shoulders. I didn't waste any time either.

We got a hold of each other's gear, taking our time, well up for it. His balls were proper compact, tight, and his cock was thick and boiling hot. Mine sorted itself out straight away. We sucked each other off like we had all afternoon, even though neither of us did. Some encounters are just like that, they just work on their own, no talking needed.

He fancied my arse. I showed it to him. I’m not really a rent-boy type but I love it when someone plays with it, and he went to town—tongue first, then his fingers, slowly. I was absolutely buzzing.

We spent ages with our cocks in hand, in mouth, no rush even though we both knew we had a route to finish. In the end, we ended up doing a 69 inside that cab, which was a proper oven by then, and we came in each other’s beards almost at the exact same time.

Cleaned up with some tissue from the glovebox. Got dressed. He cracked the window open. "Safe journey," he said. "Cheers, you too," I replied.

I got down from the Mercedes, climbed into my Volvo and carried on towards Galicia. Your own cab knows everything, aye. But sometimes the neighbor's does too.