Truck Driver Sex With 36 Wheeler On The Road

Nebraska to New York. Nebraska to New York. I guess I've been driving that route for over fifteen years now. It was a long trip and it was a boring trip. Long hours at the wheel of my eighteen-wheel refrigerated trailer-truck, delivering meat from the heartland to the East Coast. I had a good steady job with Macon, Mitchell and Marlin, the big meat company, and I certainly wasn't complaining.
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There was gooey white cum all over. I reached for a tissue and handed it to her, and she daintily wiped her lips. It was then that I noticed that Frank was almost transfixed. He had this fixed glassy stare, which was centered on my diminishing member, and the drops of cum on my belly. "Hey, Frank? You okay, man?" I asked him "Sure," he said. "How was it?" "It was great," I told him.
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And then he just totally broke down. He started crying and sobbing. "I could have had a wreck. I could have killed people. I could have been killed myself. " "Ssshhh. Sssshhh. It's okay," I told him. "These things happen. " I put my arms around him and held him against me. His head was pressed against my chest and he was still sobbing. "Sssshhh. Sssshhh. It's okay. Nothing happened.
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I began to finger his wonderful aperture, and it was trembling and opening for me. "You have such a beautiful ass," I told him. "I've been in love with your ass since the first time I saw it, when that hooker was tonguing it. " He didn't say anything. He just pushed himself further back against my finger, so that it was going into the hot tight tunnel between his cheeks. "Oh, yeah," he said.
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