1. Trucker Chapter 8: Haunted


    Date: 6/30/2016, Categories: Masturbation, Author: YouTurn, Source: LushStories

    “Oh baby, you are so wonderful!” Mark slurred. Through half-closed eyes he watched Jessie sit up between his legs. Her pert breasts bounced as she wisped hair from her face. Dark hair flowed down over naked shoulders. She smiled as she wiped the corner of her mouth and then sucked her finger clean. Jessie let go of his limp cock and crawled over him. She dragged her hardened nipples across his chest leaving scorched trails in their wake. The look in her stare told him that she wasn’t nearly done with him yet! Mark felt her soft lips melt to his. Her petite, wet, smoldering tongue, the same tongue that just moments before caressed his cock until it exploded, slipped inside his mouth. Passion arced between the two, sending an intense fervor throughout him. He could hear her whimper when they broke their long passionate kiss. Through a lustful haze, he saw Jessie mouth ‘I love you.’ His hands gripped the bed sheets tightly as Jessie softly raked her fingernails over his skin. Her face suddenly changed. Jessie’s eyebrows furled and her eyes widened. He saw her say something but heard only an obnoxious whining noise instead of her sweet voice. He didn’t fully understand, but something seemed wrong! Jessie’s face contorted in to a full blown yell. Yet he heard no scream. That same whining noise invaded his senses. The noise was familiar to that of a rub board, he thought. The same rub board sound that tires make when a vehicle drifts outside of the white lines. But why would ...
    Jessie be making those… “SHIT!” Mark yelled to himself as he came to his senses. Mark had a death grip alright, not on soft linen sheets but on the steering wheel of his truck. He fought to bring his rig back into the lane without over-correcting. Mark realized that he had drifted off. As he pulled back in between the lines, that same rub board noise sounded, once for his truck and then again when the trailer aligned. Taking a deep breath, a shiver ran down Mark’s spine when he thought how close that was. Mark knew that he needed to stop for a much needed break. After all that had recently happened, all that he had left behind and all that was lost, Mark just wanted to drive. Jockeying the Peterbilt gave him a sense of solace. There was no drama. Well, none until just a few minutes ago. Sixty plus hours of non-stop hauling ass was taking its toll. Mark exited the interstate after seeing the customary blue sign with a fork logo signifying a restaurant. An all night diner was well lit and could easily be seen in the darkness. DAVE’S 24 HOUR DINER displayed in bright neon, beckoning to all those that passed by on the interstate. Mark did not even know what time it was - or where he was, for that matter. Parking next to an old Mack pulling a dump bed, Mark set the Pete’s brakes. He rubbed the back of his neck. It was tense from his near-accident and his forehead was still beaded with sweat. Mark again breathed a sigh of relief. If one had to go, dreaming about the last time his wife ...
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