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FREE STORY OF THE DAY:

If I live to be a hundred, I will never figure out how strange life can be. I'm a truck driver which isn't the most common thing in the world, but even stranger is the fact that I am quite attractive. I'm five feet two inches, weigh one-hundred and fifteen pounds, have blond hair and blue eyes. Every time I meet a nice man, he asks me the same question men ask hookers. "How did a nice girl like you get into a dirty business like this?" To top it all off, I have four huge brothers who are also truck drivers, and who have taken it upon themselves to protect my virtue at all cost. So you can see why it might be hard for me to get laid, especially by a good man. I remember one man in particular. It is almost comical. He buzzed me on the C.B. one afternoon while I was on a California run, saying," Breaker for the good-lookin' blond that drives the silver rig. If you're within hearing, meet me at midnight at the Stop and Slop on Exit 89." His voice sounded nice, and I decided to meet him. Like I say, it isn't the easiest thing for me to meet men in my profession. So, I arrived promptly at midnight, and guess who had beaten me there: two of my four goonish brothers. It took all the convincing I could muster to convince these boys to refrain from smashing the man to a pulp, but eventually I did. As they left, I turned to apologize, thinking that the man wouldn't have anything to do with me now that my brothers had threatened his life. I was disappointed because the man was very attractive. I started to speak, and he reached up and touched my lips with his fingertips. It was like an electric shock struck my body, and we suddenly melded into one another's arms and, from there, in to my rig.

I don't know what happened to me, but somehow I couldn't resist his advances as he groped my tits, and mauled my pussy through my jeans. The next thing I knew, my pants were down around my ankles along with my panties. I felt like a schoolgirl as he buried his face in my bush, and I was burning all over as he tounged my clit furiously. I grabbed two handfuls of his hair and rode his mouth to ecstasy and back. I climaxed twice before he lifted from my snatch and planted a pussy-drenched kiss on my slack lips. I was putty in his grasp as he produced his cock and found the hungry opening to my cunt. His bulging cockhead was almost too bog, but he finally managed to break through the initial resistance and slide inside my heated box, once past the outer ring. I nearly screamed as he stretched me beyond my previous imaginable limitations; it was the biggest cock I had ever had.

As he started a rapid-bucking pace between my legs, I decided that it was true what they said about pussy being elastic. I had to have an elastic box to take that huge cockamongous. He kept plunging like a wild stallion, filling and refilling my cunt with a piston of steel-hard horsepower. I throbbed and burned enroute to my third miraculous orgasm. It came when he tightened in an incredible orgasm of his own. That extra millimeter of superman cock triggered an explosion of pleasure which engulfed my trembling body with a starburst of ecstasy. Then it was all over. We lay trembling and weak in sexual relief fopr a few moments, and then redressed. We didn't speak. It seemed rather embarrassing now that we were finished, so we hurried our dressing and then made our way back to the parking lot. He squeezed my hand once before he disappeared into the night, and I remember his parting words. "Catch you on the flip flop. My handle is Night Runner." I didn't mind the abrupt ending. I knew that I would indeed see this man on the flip flop, and I intended to make a habit of catching him on the flip flop.1